The Chance of a Lifetime
by Victoria Breckon
Summary: Kurt Hummel-Anderson has been given the opportunity of a lifetime- however, it requires him to be away from his beloved husband and son for extensive amounts of time.  How will the three cope?
1. Just the Beginning

"I've got it!" Kurt explained as he rushed through the front door, beads of excitement and sweat racing down his forehead. "_You're_ what's simmering so hot on the stove for supper." He crossed through the kitchen and wrapped his hands around his husband's stomach, face pressing against the cottony fabric and sharp contours of Blaine's back.

"Kurt! You're home early!" Blaine exclaimed; he left the macaroni boiling on the stove and spoon in mid-stir as he turned into his husband's embrace.

"Yes I am, mister. Don't be telling me you've got another person in this house and you're flustered by my early arrival." Kurt's eyes began to dig holes into Blaine's, a look of mock horror rearranging his features from blissful to one he liked to call, 'The Terminator.'

"Of course, it's not what it looks like!" Blain began, hands flying up protectively in front of him.

"Good, because if I find out you've been seeing someone else, Blaine Hummel-Anderson…"

"No one but me, Daddy K!"

"No one but _you?_" Kurt asked, letting out a comically large sigh of relief, causing his son to erupt into ginormous giggles. "Well, as long as it's _you,_ I guess there's just nothing I can do about it, now is there/"

Kurt grinned and bent down to smooth his son's hair before taking him into a tight hug. "How was school today, buddy?"

"Good," AJ replied, eyes shifting around to face his Daddy B.

This did not go unnoticed by Kurt. "Are you sure? Did anything happen that I should know about?"

Once again, AJ's eyes were glued to his curly-haired, tanner dad. Blaine nodded, urging and encouraging his son to be independent and self-reliant.

"Well, um…" Another urging nod. "Well, Daddy K, do you remember my friend Daniel?"

Kurt smiled softly. "Of course! You play soccer together, right? He's been to our house a few times if I'm not mistaken…"

"Yeah, that's him." AJ nodded, staring up at his father. "Well… he's moving, Daddy! He's moving to stupid California!"  
>"Why?" Kurt asked sympathizing with his son's upside down smile and dripping eyes.<p>

"His mommy and daddy don't love each other anymore, and he has to move with his daddy. It's not fair, Daddy K!"

Kurt stole a quick glance at Blaine, hi himself needing a reassuring nod.

"Well, August James, I am terribly sorry to hear that! It's a shame he has to move so far away. But, do you want to know something really cool? You can still keep in touch with Daniel! And, I bet between your Daddy B and me, we could figure out some pretty cool ways to keep in touch. Maybe—and this isn't a for-sure thing—we could even go visit him sometime! Now, _that_ would be pretty cool, would it not?"

Kurt was only too relieved to see a small, hopeful simile blossoming onto AJ's face. "Yeah! That would be AWESOME!" AJ squealed, running into his father's lean frame and wrapping his arms around it.

"Oh, boy, you don't want to be hugging me! I've just gotten out of rehearsal and probably smell the equivalent of a few gassy elephants. Or your Daddy B."

AJ's stomach bounced with laughter, his head tilting back so that his glossy curls rolled like wavers into a distant shore.

After AJ was partially recovered, he replied, "I think you smell like it just rained and—" He screwed up his eyes, his brows forming 45 degree angles as he contemplated. "—because of that rain flowers and plants will be able to grow and… and flourish."

Kurt was not convinced, and he cocked a tawny brow in the air to provide a clear visual aid.

"Fresh rain, eh? Say, did your Daddy B teach you that?"

The plan abandoned, AJ giggled through a highly convincing smile before running off to his room. Kurt rounded on Blaine, his green and black "_Wicked, A New Musical´_ pants transformed into sails, filling up with air and expanding at the quickness of his turn.

"Like rain, eh?" Kurt grinned, leaning his elbows on their granite countertop; Blaine had returned to the task of dinner.

"He comes up with the funniest sayings, huh?" Blaine replied; his face was either red from amusement or the billowing steam issuing from the boiling, gurgling water. I'm quite happy that you're home earlier than normal, babe, by I must ask: Why? Everything OK at work?"

"OK? Things are great, Blaine! In fact, I came home early because I received the _greatest_ news on my lunch break."

Blaine stopped, his hand caught in the worst of the steam, his muscles tensed, his eyes locked on Kurt's. "What is it?  
>"Blaine, I—I've been offered the opportunity of a lifetime. It's just—"<p>

"Do it. Kurt Hummel-Anderson, don't _not_ do it if you're concerned about AJ and I. We'll be fine. If this is truly such a fantastic opportunity, don't let us stand in your way. Besides, once in a lifetime opportunities only happen _once_. And you only have one lifetime."

Kurt's face was grass, raindrops falling gratefully onto it. "Oh, Blaine…!" He leaned over the counter and pecked the sweetest man in the world on the lips.

"So tell me more about this epic offer! It must be pretty grand if you are coming home early from rehearsal to tell us about it!"

"Oh, Blaine, it is! I've… I've been selected in an elite group of actors to go on a national Broadway tour. It's a year long, were you're guaranteed four shows. You'll be casted in four different shows, and each show runs for three months. We're going, of course, to all the major venues, including London, England, Tokyo, Japan, Los Angeles, California—_all expenses paid_." The words came out in a rush, like the first day of school when freshmen anxiously arrive at their first class fifteen minutes before to ensure they're in the correct place in a foreign world; in many ways, this was a foreign world to both Blaine _and _Kurt.

Blaine's eyes were wide and tinted with excitement; his mouth hung slightly open, an odd noise, something between a scoff and a deep gasp, escaped him.

Whatever it was, it was terrific.

"Oh my God, babe, that _is_ a once in a lifetime opportunity!" Blaine, for the second time that evening, completely forgot about the stovetop and rain around to Kurt, gripping him in a rib-crushing embrace. I can't believe it!-Well, I mean, of course I can, you're simply _amazing!—_Oh my God!" Returning reluctantly to dinner, Blaine asked, "When do you leave?"

"Well, I know we start of in the Big Apple, so I'll be able to stay at home. I'm going to—assuming I can go—have some crazy rehearsal schedules and late nights. We perform every day, practically—actors from _around the country_ are being flown in, Blaine!"

"Are spouses allowed to come?"

"Well…" Kurt hesitated and met Blaine's polite, questioning gaze. "Wes, but—"

"AJ needs to remain here, close to family, and in school. I understand hon."

"Blaine, we can talk about—"

Kurt couldn't seem to erase the disappointment in Blaine's tone from his ears.

"Kurt, honey, _relax_. I was simply asking; I already assumed your answer and, after having the pleasure of being your husband for eight years, I'd like to think I can predict your answers."

"A little too well, thank you." Kurt replied, pretending that his personal bubble had just been popped. "Need some help with dinner?"

Blaine smirked, lifting his husband's sweatband from his forehead and letting go, allowing it to pop back onto his temple. "No, I have it under control. You smell. Go shower and make yourself presentable for supper, young man."

Placing a kiss on Blaine's nose, Kurt stalked off, muttering, "I'll be sure to wear only my best 'fresh rain' cologne..."

* * *

><p>"So Daddy K's going to be gone for a whole <em>year?"<em> AJ asked between bites and mouthfuls of mac n' cheese.

A pathetic, sad smile formed on Kurt's lips; Blaine placed a strong hand on top of his.

"Yes, he will. He's going to be performing with a bunch of other actors all around the world."

"Wow, that's AWESOME Daddy K! …But, wait…" AJ thought aloud. "What about Christmas? And all of my soccer games? And my fall concert?"

"If you'll excuse me for just a second," Kurt murmured, excusing himself from the table. As soon as he had escaped the kitchen, he released breath he had not known he had been holding and allowed a few tears to spill out of his eyes.

What was he doing?

Was he really going to allow his son to be away from one of his dads for a _whole year?_

Would he, Kurt Hummel-Anderson, be able to get through this?

How would Blaine handle his absence?

He couldn't do this. Not to his family. Not to AJ.

Not to Blaine.

He had to do what was right—Kurt hadn't a clue on which decision, however, was the right one.

* * *

><p>"You have to."<p>

"And what, Blaine? Have AJ be without me for an entire year? You heard him! I knew this was a terrible thing..."

"I did hear him. We talked about it when you excused yourself and left your dinner out to get cold."

Kurt leaned on his pillow, talking quietly in the serene evening about something that would be anything but. "And what did _you two_ talk about?"

"We talked about how you'd be gone but how it would be for your work, and how we'd keep in touch every day and write letters and draw pictures and maybe even visit you on our breaks and over holidays."

"Yes, but—"

"AJ wasn't thrilled about the idea of you being gone for a year, and I'm going to be honest with you, neither am I. But I understand. And—"Blaine placed a finger on Kurt's lips to temporarily silence him. "Baby, this is what love is. Making sacrifices for each other. Love is never having to say you're sorry."

"I'm impressed by your vast knowledge of movie quotes, dear," Kurt mumbled, looking through his long lashes at Blaine. Before his husband could get too lost in those eyes, he continued on, clearly having to say something important.

"This is a great opportunity—a once in a lifetime opportunity. And I'm not going to let you give it up."

"Oh-ho, _that_ sounds like a challenge personally extended to be, Blaine Hummel-Anderson." Kurt replied, smiling for the first time in the hours that had progressed from the start of their conversation; many points had risen from both parties, though one thing was clear—the two were going to miss each other immensely.

* * *

><p><strong>Whoo- hoo! ;D My first chapter (and first attempt at Klaine fanfiction) is complete! I hope you thoroughly enjoyed the first chapter and will continue to read and grow with the characters. Feedback is great, as I'm always looking to better my work; I think it's time now to watch some Glee and truly get into the voice of Kurt Hummel-Anderson. Also, as a side note, I thought I might mention that Kurt is a professional actor on Broadway, and that this is going to be his last big HOORAH before sticking strictly to NYC shows; he doesn't want to be away from his family for any more than he has to be; I hope I made this much clear! (: Blaine, on the other hand, is an aspiring author and has written a few low-key novels. AJ is in the second grade and is seven years old when Kurt departs for the trip of a lifetime; these traits from the characters were mostly taken from the lovely <strong>GirlFromTheWest **and her brilliant story, ****Daddies. ****I totally recommend it as it has helped me and inspired me to write my own fanfiction. **

Victoria


	2. It's His World

"Kurt, sweetie, the phone's for you…" Blaine nudged his sleeping beauty, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he sat up. Honestly, who could be calling at _5:43 am_ on a _Saturday?_

"No, Bambi, run, do what your father says…" Kurt muttered; the mysterious caller could be heard sighing on the phone—clearly, patience was not _his_ virtue.

"Kurt, c'mon, rise and shine." Blaine nudged him again, this time successful; Kurt's eyes flashed open, and he quickly pulled a sheet over him to protect his near-bare, pasty skin.

"What _is_ it, Blaine? Honestly, it's terribly early, and this is one of my few days off…"

Grabbing the phone, Kurt pressed it to his ear and muttered a groggy, "Hello?"

"Kurt, baby, so sorry if I'm interrupting something!" A larger-than-life voice called out; he was clearly trying to be happy in a situation where things had not gone his way.

Kurt Hummel-Anderson knew the type—this was a director. Not any director. His director.

"Oh, good morning, Jacob!" He replied quickly, mentally scolding himself for being an idiotic Neanderthal to one of the most important people in his life.

"Good morning, indeed. Listen, I'm sorry for calling so early, but I was up and runnin' and just thought I'd check to see if you had an answer for me?"

"An answer… OH! Yes, yes I do!" Kurt responded, sitting on the edge of the bed so that his legs hung off the bed; Blaine leaned over, wrapping one arm around his bare stomach and resting his head on his lean shoulder, clearly intent on listening to the conversation that had woke him up. "Of course, of course, the answer is yes. I was just wondering on the details… Mhhmm… Yes, Yes of course… Sure. Sure! Tonight… Seven… The Expedition… Great! We'll be there. And Jacob—_thank you._"

With a small beep, the call ended. Blaine nuzzled Kurt's neck and gave him a small kiss under the ear right before yawning loudly. "What was that all about?" He asked curiously, pulling Kurt backwards so that his husband's head rested on his chest.

"Oh, Jacob invited us to dinner tonight to discuss some of the details for this extravagant trip. He's meeting with all the actors; tonight was the only night he could fit us in—He said someone from Alaska is flying in to perform with us! Isn't that amazing?" He turned his head to stare into his husband's welcoming green eyes.

"It is, indeed! Promise me you won't have _too_ much fun on this trip without me, though. After all, if you come back and are married to someone else, well, you'll have some 'splainin to do!"

"Ha ha! Look at what marriage has done to you—questioning the faithfulness of me."

"Only because I love you so much." Blaine replied, rubbing little circles on Kurt's sides, causing tiny giggles and squeals to erupt from him.

"Oh Blaine, stop, stop it!" He giggled, twisting frantically as he tried to escape the wrath of Blaine.

"Only until you promise to not have too much fun!" He countered, grabbing onto Kurt's arms with one hand and tickling with the other.

"Alright, alright, I _promise!_" Kurt squealed in that high voice that drove his husband crazy. Blaine finally released him and collapsed down onto his pillow; Kurt did the same, both men panting and laughing from fun and exhaustion.

Before he knew it, Blaine was fast asleep, meager snores causing his stomach and chest to slowly rise and fall. Kurt merely shook his head, tucking his husband in before falling asleep himself.

"Thanks, dad, I'm really excited, too!" Kurt grinned, smiling at the phone; he was so fortunate to have a mother and father who accepted and cared about him.

"Now, son, when can Carol and I get tickets?" Burt asked as he tightened a bolt on the Malone's loose tire.

"Get tickets? Dad, this is Broadway, _I_ don't even know yet and I'm supposed to be doing this."

"Point taken." Burt replied, smiling at the phone; his son was so particularly and yet, he wouldn't have it any other way. His mother would be so proud of him if she could see this… Shaking his head as if to literally clear his mind, he began again. "So, this, _thing—_"

"Show." Kurt corrected, mentally rolling his eyes.

"This _show_, you said you're going to be gone for an entire _year_? Doesn't that seem a bit extensive?"

This was the conversation Kurt had been dreading. "Well, yes, it is, but—"

"And how does Blaine feel about this? You _have_ talked to him about it, right?"

"_Yes,_ dad, I have."

"And?"

"Well, he understands. It's going to be hard on both of us, but this is just one of those things that I have to do. I—" his voice became softer, more personal. "I know he wants me to do this. He loves me and wants me to succeed. I'm… I'm going to miss him so much." It was the first time he had voiced these words aloud, and suddenly they seemed terrifyingly real.

"And AJ? How does he feel? Does this give us an excuse to steal him away more often?"

It was obvious Burt wasn't trying to mask his hopeful tone. "I'm sure Blaine would be alright with that."

"Might be begging, more like." Burt replied, a short laugh escaping him. "It's not easy being a single parent, trust me, Kurt."

"But he's not a—"

"Single parent, I know. But it's going to be an adjustment for both of you. You've been together for—what is it? Eight… Eight years. And what I'm trying to say is that it's not going to be all rainbows and butterflies. You're both going to have struggles. But when you love someone enough you're going to be able to break the barriers of distance and succeed out of love."

"Wow, such a poetic phase from a greasy mechanic. Say, has Carol been lending you her Mona Simpson books, because if she is, it's really showing. Bravo."

"Kurt—please keep us informed."

"I will dad. Thanks—I'm so fortunate to have you for a father."

"Yeah yeah… Call when you find out more. I love you, son."

"Love you, too, dad. Say hi to Carol for me. Bye."

At fifteen past six, the Hummel-Andersons loaded into their light brown ("It's gold mist metallic, Blaine.") Chevy Equinox and soon arrived at The Expedition. The Expedition was a newer restaurant located in the heart of the City; it had been created based on a rich scientist's expeditions and findings in Antarctica, hence the name.

"Now, AJ, you look positively handsome!" Kurt beamed, grabbing his husband's hand behind their son. He was dressed in a pair of metallic grey dress pants, white and black patent leather dress shoes, and a dark crimson button down, which accented with his tan skin nicely, Kurt thought.

"Thanks, Daddy K. You and Daddy B look pretty spiffy yourself." A huge grin filled their seven year old's face, proud that he had successfully used a recently learned word.

"Why, thank you AJ!" Blaine exclaimed, fiddling with a button on his tawny suit jacket and pushing his olive green tie underneath. He flashed Kurt a quick smile, taking in his navy pants and tweed vest; fashion was of key importance, and all three Hummel-Andersons were definitely flaunting it.

"Daddy K, I've heard this restaurant is pretty, well, fancy. Do you think they'll have mac n' cheese?"

Kurt couldn't contain his laughter. "I'm sure you'll find something that you'll enjoy, sweet boy. Now, just remember, you're to be on your best behavior, this is—"

"Daddy's boss, I don't want him to get a wrong view of me, this is an important dinner, yes, I know Daddy K." It was impossible not to hear the mental eye roll in AJ's words.

"Well, I'd say he takes after you." Blaine muttered to Kurt.

Suddenly, his husband was being taken into a huge hug, squeals of equal delight emitting from the two parties. After two air kisses apiece on each cheek, Kurt stepped back, putting his hand back in Blaine's and placing one squarely on AJ's shoulder. "Jacob, this is my lovely husband—"

"Blaine? This is him, eh? You've got yourself a looker, Kurt!" Jacob exclaimed, grabbing Blaine in a huge hug and clapping him a few times on the back. "Lovely to meet you, sir, I'm Jacob Desiree, and I'm fortunate enough to have the opportunity to work with your lavish husband. This one here, he cracks me up!" Jacob declared, patting Kurt on the shoulder so that his knees nearly buckled. "And, whoa, who do we have here? Could this be…? No!"

"My name is August James, sir, but you may call me AJ."

"Well," Jacob replied, placing a hand on his chest as if touched. "It is a true pleasure to meet you! Now, let's get inside before all the tables are gone! This place is truly an experience, I must say!"

Blaine glanced at Kurt; he just nodded, knowing this was Jacob's world and they were all pleasurably living in it.

Once seated, a cute (if Kurt must say so!) waiter graced their table.

"One bottle of La Fenetre please and—" Jacob glanced at AJ "—and whatever this young gentlemen would like!" Jacob turned his menu to the non-alcoholic drinks and gave it to AJ to look over. "And, for an appetizer, please, I'd like some of your decadent crab legs, butter on the side, please. Thank you, Fernando." The waiter merely smiled and was off. Jacob leaned towards AJ. "Anything you like, son. I personally recommend the raspberry lemonade ala mode, it has huge chunks of raspberry in it and is mixed with homemade vanilla ice cream; it's like a really smooth shake and is simply tantalizing to the senses." AJ grinned widely, and ordered just that, along with a bowl of all-natural macaroni and cheese. The evening was going to go fabulously.

"So, Jacob, we've discussed this trip and have agreed that it is truly the chance of a lifetime." Kurt sucked in a deep breath and nearly whispered from excitement, "I'm in. But—"His voice once again settled into a normal tone. "—I would like to know specifics. What shows are we doing, first of all?"

"Well," Jacob mumbled, finishing his bite of lobster ("lightly dipped in peanut oil instead of butter, please? But put some butter on the side, I'm feeling naughty tonight!") and dabbing his lips with a satin napkin before replying. "I'm not supposed to release any of this information to the public, but you're a close friend. I'm simply _sure_ that your husband and son wouldn't tell a soul of this, would you?"

"No, of course not." Blaine replied, nodding to AJ, who nodded back.

All three men seemed to lean in towards Jacob, hanging on his every word. "Well, the first show we're going to do is a revival of _My Fair Lady_ (Kurt clutched at his heart at the name of his favorite musical), and then we are touring with _Mama Mia_, followed by _Memphis_, and ending with _Wicked_. Rehearsals for all of these shows will be _between_ show times, meaning you are going to be rehearsing for one show and performing another at the same time. This is why we've only accepted the best of the best, as for the reason we didn't select _amateurs._ More wine, Kurt, you're looking a little shocked."

"I _am_ shocked, Jacob. This is finally happening."

_Not an amateur. I'm no longer an amateur. This is happening. My big break is finally here._

**Oooh how exciting for Mr. Hummel-Anderson! :D This was a lot of fun to write, especially Jacob's character. What will happen next? Stay tuned to find out. : )**

**~Victoria**


	3. All He Had Known

"Gonna b home late again. Leave dinner in mic. ily. xxoo, K."

Kurt sighed, wiping a river of sweat off of his forehead. He reluctantly put his phone back in his bag and continued to stretch, reaching his arms towards his bare feet and wishing terribly that he could wear something _besides_ spandex. It was naturally a rough day if spandex was the _enemy_. It clung to his skin, sticky and wet, and yet he continued to rehearse. _It's a step ball change plie, turn, summersault, shimmie front, back, front again, step ball change to the seven eight time and then it ends with a jazz square ball change and jazz hands. It's _really_ not that complicated! If I can get it without my pelvis hurting, I'm sure those women can, too!_ Kurt thought, rolling his eyes at their lame excuse of pelvic pain. _Are they sure it's not their dear Aunt Flo coming to visit?_ He surveyed the blondes who were standing together, talking animatedly as if everything was fine. _Of course, knowing them, they probably don't know the difference._

Once Jacob entered the room, everyone was up, suddenly done with their vital text messages or a few bites of something or their stretches; it was time to work and, as Jacob had been drilling in their heads for the past day and a half, time was money.

_**~o~o~o~o~o~**_

"AJ, time for supper!" Blaine called. In no less than four seconds, AJ was seated at the table, napkin in lap, stomach growling.

"Daddy, where's Daddy K?" AJ asked, watching as his dad made a plate and placed it in the microwave. "He's at rehearsal again, isn't he?"

"Yes, sweet boy, he is."

"And you don't like that."

Blaine seated himself at the table and looked into those pale blue eyes, Kurt's eyes that AJ had so generously received from Kurt's cousin Millie, their lovely surrogate. "No, I wish he'd come home so we could make the most of the time that we have left with him until he leaves for his trip. Say, do _you_ like him being gone?"

"No. I wish he was able to come to my soccer games especially. He's too busy, though." AJ stared down at his garlic mashed potatoes and stirred them around his plate, suddenly disinterested.

"You know what, AJ?" Blaine asked, placing a hand on his forearm. "He doesn't like being away from us, either. It's hard on him, too. So you know what we've got to do?"

"What?"

"We've got to make the time that we do have with him extra special. We've got to have fun, laugh, play games, and go to your soccer games. Nothing would make him happier, AJ. Can you help me do that?"

"Well, sure, Daddy B, but how are we going to do that when he's gone?"

"Hmm… Well, we can send him letters, draw him pictures, Skype, talk on the phone… We are still going to keep in touch with him, AJ. He'll never be out of our lives."

"Well that's good," AJ replied, grinning boyishly up at his daddy.

"You know, AJ, there's going to be a time that you may not want your daddy around all the time."

"Yeah, right, Daddy B, don't be silly!"

_**~o~o~o~o~o~**_

At half past eleven, Kurt Hummel-Anderson slumped through the door, shutting it softly and leaning against it. "Blaine, I'm home," He nearly whispered. Taking off his shoes he trudged towards the kitchen and grabbed a piece of paper that was messily taped on the microwave. "To Daddy K." It said. "Love AJ". Kurt couldn't help but grin proudly at the picture. It was of AJ and his team playing a game of soccer; Kurt and Blaine stood on the sidelines; Kurt was even in his trademark yellow raincoat and galoshes, and he was screaming GOOOO AJ! that was issuing from a giant rainbow speech bubble.

"Do you like it? I must say, our little boy is turning out to be quite the artist."

Kurt turned the microwave to a minute before leaning into his husband. "I think it's beautiful. It's going on my wall right above my headboard at every hotel."

"Be prepared for a lot more, then. Once AJ hears that, he'll be a mini Picasso!" Blaine laughed; he looked how Kurt felt: exhausted. "Rough day I'm guessing?"

"Yes," he whispered against his neck, reveling in the feeling of his lips against the scratchy hair that descended just below Blaine's ears. "We learned nothing but straight choreography. And this is just for _My Fair Lady_. I don't know how I am going to possibly stand when we have to learn—and remember—new stuff when we're performing completely opposite stuff. Ugh!"

"Hey, now, you can do it. If anyone can do it, you can." Blaine replied, tracing small, smoothing circles on his husband's back. "Besides, everyone has bad days. It will be better tomorrow. And—"Blaine smirked, pushing his husband up against the counter. "If you need something to get you through it, simply picture me. I'll leave the rest up to you and your filthy imagination."

"And this is supposed to be a prize?" Kurt challenged, a smile pasting itself onto his features. "Or is this simply you trying to seduce me?"

"Both." He replied, placing a single kiss on the soft skin under Kurt's ear; he couldn't have asked for a better reaction, as Kurt gripped onto his hips, tilting his head back a tiny bit.

The microwave sounded, bringing both men back to reality. Sighing, Kurt opened the microwave and began to eat. He then proceeded to tell Blaine about his _lovely_ day, listing off the dumb blondes, his irritating spandex, and the intense choreography. When he finished, Blaine replied, "Well, you'll either be terribly excited or exceedingly disappointed when you hear the news." This had received Kurt's full attention, and he sat a little straighter, an inquisitive look filling his features.

"Well, your parents called, and they'll be here on Saturday. Burt said something about you telling him the dates and that you had encouraged them to come?"

"Yeah, yeah I did." Kurt replied, running a hand through his tawny, sweat-drenched locks. "That'll be good. Babe, I'm really sorry that I haven't been around lately. It's just, rehearsals have been crazy, and—"

"Kurt, stop apologizing. I understand. Remember when we first lived here and you were auditioning for roles and then you'd come home and find me locked in the den, writing? That's just what you have to do sometimes. I get it. Don't give it a second thought, alright?"

"Or what?" Kurt challenged, eyebrows dipping down into his eyes as a mischievous smirk graced his angelic face.

"Or I might have to take back my offer of you being able to think of me when you need a pick me up."

"A pick me up, did you mean that literally, Mister Author? Or are you naturally good at innuendos?"

"You decide."

_**~o~o~o~o~o~**_

"Dad!" Kurt squealed, running down the driveway to meet his father and Carol as they emerged from his old pickup truck.

"Hey, Kurt!" Burt replied, embracing his son in a huge, warm hug that only dads were capable of producing. "I've missed yah, kid! Blaine and AJ inside, then?"

"Yeah, go on in! Carol!" He gave her a hug, never failing to notice her new fashion trends. "I see you've progressed to Dress Barn and… Hmm, the shoes must be ANA from J.C. Penny's!"

"Wow, Burt said you wouldn't be able to guess the shoes since J.C. Penny's is such a boring place compared to the big shops in the City, but I told him, 'If anyone can guess it, Kurt can!' And sure enough, you've flaunted your knowledge! Thank you, sweetie!" Carol gushed.

"Sure, sure! I take it you've read Patti Lapone's memoir that was recently acclaimed in the New York Times?"

"No, actually, I haven't, but I've been _dying_ to!"

"Oh, you simply must!" Kurt declared, placing a hand on his chest in surprise. "You can borrow it; Blaine just finished it last night so I can now pass it onto you."

"Great!" Carol replied before spying her grandson. "AJ!"

The evening was comfortable; light, airy chat filled the room throughout lunch and dinner, ending with a crescendo as the five of them partook in a game of Monopoly where AJ proved to be the best investor, beating out the previous champion, Burt Hummel.

"You've learned from your dad, buddy!" Burt exclaimed, clapping AJ on the back and pulling him into a tight squeeze. "But he learned from me, and he _never_ beat me!"

"Never?" AJ repeated, grinning mischievously up at his father.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, let's not bring up those painful memories, those nights where I'd lay in bed wishing to be just like my dad and beat everyone with simple mind logistics at the game of Monopoly." Kurt retorted, snickering quietly with Carol. "Yes, I aspired to be just like that, but instead I became an _actor_. Sorry if I disappointed you, dad."

"Not at all, son," Burt responded, Blaine and AJ joining in with the quiet, polite laughter. "I feel like I'm missing something," Burt suddenly stated, and the family erupted into giggles.

_**~o~o~o~o~o~**_

"Professor Henry Higgins has been Kurt's dream role for, oh, a while."

"How long is said 'a while'?" AJ asked his grandpa.

"Since birth."

"And now he's finally getting his chance," Blaine replied, his hand finding AJ's shoulder as he leaned over to plant a small kiss on his temple. It was just then that the lights dimmed, and the show began.

_**~o~o~o~o~o~**_

"Daddy K, you did AWESOME!" AJ squealed, running to wrap his arms around his daddy's middle.

"Thank you, darling boy!" Kurt replied, laughing as he kissed the top of his son's head.

"Yeah, Kurt, I couldn't be more proud of you! You were simply _perfect_ for the role."

"Thanks, dad! "And—"gasp "—Carol! You are _rockin'_ that Vera Wang dress!"

"Thanks, dear—you did fantastic, you really did!"

"Oh, stop it, thanks!" Once the family was settled in the car, Blaine hung back to talk to Kurt.

"So, were you thinking of me when you were kissing Eliza?"

"Of course. That, my dear husband, was going on _way_ before you gave me permission." And with that, Kurt exited the building and strutted to the car, knowing he was good, but knowing more importantly that he was loved.

_**~o~o~o~o~o~**_

"Kurt, Blaine, we'll be back tomorrow morning at precisely six AM. You two have fun tonight!" Carol called, managing to throw in a quick wink as the two men stood in the doorway, waving to their son and family. They walked hand in hand back inside, Blaine unnaturally quiet.

"Everything alright, hon?" Kurt asked as he sat next to his husband on their leather Ethan Allen sofa.

"Yeah, everything's fine."

Kurt cocked his head, noticing that usually energetic, enthusiastic Blaine was showing none of his usual characteristics. "Come on, babe, what's up? You're kind of scaring me."

This got Blaine's attention; he looked up into Kurt's eyes and bursted, "You're leaving. Tomorrow. For a whole year. And the only time I can remember you being away that long before is when you weren't in my life. And I don't want you to ever leave my life."

If Kurt wasn't so touched, he would have probably started to cry. "Oh, baby, I'm going to miss you, too! So much! …Say, remember what you said about making the most of what time we do have together?" Blaine nodded, acting much like a little kid who had just been scolded. "Well, I say we do just that."

And suddenly the two were lighter than air. Suddenly, everything was right in the world; they were the only two people in the world. And that evening, they fell asleep not feeling sad about how little time they had, but asleep in a tangle of limbs, simply cherishing each other.

_**~o~o~o~o~o~**_

"Well, I think you have enough clothes to suit you for two years." Blaine exclaimed a few minutes before six that morning. "And that's not even barring the fact that you're undoubtedly acquire a few new garments along the way."

"Oh no, do you think I need a third suitcase?" Kurt suddenly cried, staring wildly around the house as if one would pop out of nowhere.

Blaine laughed, rubbing his husband's back in attempts to calm him down. "No, no, if you do you'll just have to buy one."

"Right, right… Oh, God Blaine!" Kurt squealed, suddenly squeezing him in a hug and a flutter of kisses. "Are you sure I should be doing this? I'm going to miss you—and AJ, God—so much!"

"I know, baby, I know… I'm going to miss you too, never forget how much I love you, baby. Never."

The doorbell broke the two apart, Blaine swinging the door open to reveal the cutest seven year old in the world. AJ's curls were temporarily masked by a New York Yankees hat, his face portraying a sad smile. It was clear the grandparents had spoiled him rotten by his new Yankees Jersey, shoes, and yet another pair of jeans.

If Kurt hadn't been crying before, he definitely was. "AJ, it's time to say goodbye. But it's only temporary, baby boy." Kurt mumbled, trying to calm himself as he scooped his boy up into his arms. "Now, I need you to take care of your Daddy B for me, alright? And your grandpa; I think he's off his rocker a little bit." Through tears, AJ began to laugh before planting a huge kiss on his daddy's lips.

"I love you, Daddy K!" AJ whimpered, giving him an extra squeeze before being put down and standing next to Blaine.

Kurt said his remaining goodbyes to his mother and father, as well as a few extra hugs and kisses to Blaine and AJ apiece. At six fifteen, Kurt's cab pulled up. Glancing out the window, he took in what had become his life: a nice home, loving parents, and a loving, caring husband—a loving husband who he was raising his son with. It wasn't a goodbye, really.

_I loves you that's why I, say cheerio and not goodbye._

**I struggled a little bit with this chapter. :/ Though, I think overall it turned out fairly well. A little different style, but I think the point came across. If any of you got the **_**Oliver!**_** Reference at the end, I greatly applaud you. (:**

**~Victoria**


	4. Brave Enough

"There," Kurt muttered to himself, looking at the handy work he had just finished. Three pictures that AJ had drawn for him hung above his headboard; Blaine's old Yale sweatshirt rested on the neatly-made bed; a recent black and white portrait of the three of them sat on his nightstand, smiles ready to greet him in the morning.

"Well, I'd say you're near about finished," Garret smirked, staring over at his roommate.

"And I'd say you're near about not." Kurt countered, sitting down on his bed and hugging Blaine's big sweatshirt to his chest. "I don't see any reminders of home around _your_ bed."

"Yeah, well, they're all up here," He replied lamely, tapping his head. "Besides, you heard what Jacob said, our mind's to be focused on the shows, that's why we're here, isn't it?"

"Yes, but—"

"Kurt? Kurt Hummel-Anderson, c'mon, a bunch of us are going out to supper, want to come?"

"I could think of nothing better," Kurt replied, recognizing Jared's voice and huffily putting his shoes on and grabbing a jacket, mentally rolling his eyes at his blockhead of a roommate. In five seconds flat, Kurt was out the door; soon, a group of hungry actors were cruising the streets of New Jersey, searching for a restaurant.

"Enjoying your roommate, Kurt?" Jared snickered, elbowing him and causing him to slip off the sidewalk.

"Enjoying your receding hairline, Jared?"

"Never misses a beat, this one!" Jared exclaimed to their colleagues, and the group split into a fit of laughter. "Well, I see your point, Garret can be… dimwitted. But you'll be good for him, I'm sure of it."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you told me this when we were placed next to each other in the makeup room; he wouldn't stop talking to the makeup artist, and it was pretty clear she was trying to concentrate. I 'accidently' kicked him, that bloke."

"Seriously, Kurt, what's the problem with him? He's pretty cool to the rest of us; are you sure everything's okay?"

No. Everything _wasn't_ okay. Kurt decided to fill in the others during dinner as he recalled the event that led him not to trust Garret nor give him any reason to respect him.

_"Hi there, my name's Kurt Hummel-Anderson, pleasure to meet you." He stuck out a hand to the person that would be his roommate for the next year and pasted a smile onto his face, despite his homesickness. _

_ A grunt was all he received in return. _Well,_ Kurt thought. _Maybe this is how he deals with leaving home. Everyone deals with these things differently._ He decided to let it go. Entering the hotel suite door, he began to unpack, as well as put up his personal pictures, portraits, and comforts from home. Once completed, he sat at the desk chair, looking over at his roommate. He was a short little man, fairly fit, with auburn hair that was nearly at a buzz cut. "So, where are you from?" Kurt asked politely, crossing one leg over the other and staring with polite interest._

_ "Alaska."_

_ "Oh, cool! I was telling my husband that there was going to be a guy flown in from Alaska, and now I'm not only getting to meet him, but room with him. Cool!"_

_ Another grunt._

_ "Is everything alright? Missing home? I know I am; this must be a big change for you."_

_ "You're wrong." These were the first two words Kurt heard uttered from the man._

_ "Excuse me?" Kurt questioned, instinctively shying away as his back pressed itself to the chair._

_ "You're wrong. I don't support your or your stupid husband."_

"He did _not!"_ Jared exclaimed; Kurt nodded, simply shaking his head. "Yeah! Can you believe it? So I told him something good, I did!"

_ "For your information, _buddy_, he's not stupid. He has more brains than any senseless ignoramus that's going to tell me different! I'm _terribly_ sorry that you do not agree with my lifestyle; in many ways, I probably wouldn't agree with yours." Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking about what Blaine would say if he were here. "Listen, you may not agree with me, but you can at least respect that it's my decision and life, not yours."_

_ "That doesn't mean I want my big break to involve me rooming with a _fag!"

_Kurt stood up at these words, shaking the desk violently as his chair was pushed back from him. "Alaska, you're an asshole!" He yelled, and he stormed out the door._

_ The next day Kurt returned to his room after a four hour vocal training session to find Garret sitting on his own bed, criss-crossed, starring at him with a look of shame. "Kurt, I'm really sorry for what I said yesterday." At these words, Kurt's brows touched the sky. "I was raised by… by a dad who was… was…"_

_ "Homosexual?" Kurt offered grudgingly; he wanted him to say it, to taste the word that he was so scared to use._

_ "Yeah, _that._ And I don't think I ever learned to accept it. I was never at home when he was; he scared me because I didn't want his sexuality to influence mine. And man, I'm _totally straight_!"_

_ "You don't need to convince me," Kurt replied bitterly._

_ "Well, good. Just don't…flaunt it. No, that came out, wrong—Kurt! I'm sorry, that's all I'm trying to say, and I hope that we can appreciate each other as professionals." Kurt simply nodded._

"And I'm not going to let him off that easy. I'm letting him sit in shame; he keeps coming up with things to tell me, trying to get me to talk to him. I'm going to let him suffer for a while until he fully understands the impact of what he said."

The cast and crew's eyes were all glued to Kurt; he folded his hands on the table, pushing his empty plate away. "That, my dear friends, was the best risotto I've ever had."

And that was that.

_~X~x~X~_

At precisely 5:30 AM on Monday morning the studio was filled with sleep-induced dancers, clumsily stretching and muttering scratchy hellos to one another.

By Wednesday, the group had figured out a rhythm, and were beginning to work as a team.

Friday proved to be a piece of cake for the more experienced actors, as morning was choreography and afternoon was vocal training.

By Saturday afternoon, it was clear that everyone was dancing and singing simply to get through the day; the next day was Sunday, their only day off; it was cherished above all others, the coveted day of the week, the _holy _day in more than one way.

At ten past eleven, Kurt was finally beginning to unwind from the intense day of choreography. He sat in the hotel steam room, simply allowing the billowing white steam to cover him, to nearly suffocate him, relaxing his muscles in different stretches. He slung a towel around his neck and tilted his head back, simply enjoying some time alone with his thoughts.

This time lasted about five minutes before the door open; Kurt's eyes widened as the cold air temporarily stunned him before returning to normal as the door closed. "Hey, Kurt!" a high voice called.

"Oh, hey, Gerry!" Kurt replied, watching as the slender brunette grabbed a towel and began to stretch, her stomach pressing against her thighs as she reached for her purple polished toes. "How are you?"

"Quite fine… Missing Joe, but I guess that's normal. We've been away for nearly two weeks, can you believe it?"

"Honestly, yeah! Rehearsal has been flying by so fast that's it's almost a blur!"

"A blur of pain, mostly!" Gerry cried, laughing in her little, high chuckles.

"Yeah, really! So tell me more about this Joe guy, what's he like?" Kurt asked with polite interest.

"Oh, Joe, where to even begin…?" Gerry mused aloud, clucking her tongue. "Well, he's deployed currently in Afghanistan, so I'm pretty used to him being gone. We were high school sweethearts, and he joined up a few years after we were married. It's all he's ever wanted to do… What about you, Kurt, do you have anyone special in your life?" She asked, her brown eyes deep with longing.

"Oh, yes, I'm married. My husband Blaine and I have a son named AJ… they're simply perfect." Kurt expressed firmly, nodding his head in contemplation.

"That's good. It's nice when people who are meant for each other are able to be together. So many people are not brave enough to follow their hearts, and it's good that you can." Gerry placed a hand on Kurt's. "You seem like an exceptional man. Don't let anyone ever tell you different."

A few tears formed in Kurt's eyes, though he would blame it on the steam. "Thank you. That means so much to me."

_~X~x~X~_

Kurt pulled the blankets up over his chest, looking across the room at his ignorant roommate. He mentally sighed, a sudden light filling the room. Picking up his phone, he looked at the latest text message.

_ AJ says hey. I love you and miss you to the moon and back. xxoo B._

**Well, there you have it. Will Garret ever come around? BTW, just a little note, even chapters are going to be in K's point of view and odd chapters will be in B's point of view… because B is… **_**odd**_**? Just kidding… (: Look out for chapter five!**


	5. A Million and One

"Where's Kurt?"

Blaine nearly dunked his nose into his steaming cup of brew at the umpteenth time someone had asked where his trademark husband was. Recovering with a scalding gulp, he replied, "He's on a nation tour; I talked to him briefly between the matinee and evening productions, and he says he's doing pretty well."

Justin nodded politely, watching Blaine with an intense curiosity. "Do you think this has affected your writing style any?"

"If you're trying to suggest that I'm not being supportive…"

"No, of course not, Blaine, listen to yourself."

Blaine nodded slightly, almost shrugging as if trying to recover from his outburst. "I guess it could be," Blaine admitted, eyes glued to the grimy table of Starbucks. "He's been one of the only things on my mind…" His voice trailed off, his eyes unfocused, simply picturing the man that made him smile, the man that had been through good and bad times with him, the man he loved.

Justin slumped down, forcing Blaine to meet his cunning, prying eyes. "Well, Mr. Hummel-Anderson, if you want this next novel to be as successful as its successors, you need to return to the world of Margaret Soyer or simply say goodbye to your career." His tone was no longer kind and helpful, but final.

"When is the twenty chapter deadline?" Blaine asked warily, nearly sighing as he brought the question to a close.

"December fifteenth."

"But that's two months away! You know I've only completed three chapters what with everything that's been going on. That's pushing up to Christmas and AJ's holiday break…"

"Well, I suggest you figure out a way to get through _whatever_ you're dealing with, put your _big boy boxers_ on, and deal with it. Blaine, it's the best I can get ya, so please, make it work." Justin replied, not hiding his 360˚ eye movement. "Does AJ have grandparents that he can spend some extra time with? Maybe a _lot_ of time?"

"They live in Ohio."

"Have them come up!" Justin cried impatiently, bringing his fists down onto the table, nearly tipping their coffees.

"Have you ever had kids?" Blaine asked sourly, attempting to quench the flame that was slowly rising in his chest.

"No, but that's not rele—"

"Good. No, great, actually. Because you wouldn't even _know_ where to begin." Blaine stood up, chair legs scraping harshly against the tile floor. "And a _decent_ person wouldn't suggest that I _dump off_ my kid on my parents-in-law's doorstep that's a good four hours away, just so that I can have a little me time."

"Blaine, I'm just trying to he—"

"Yeah, well, I can raise and take care of my own kid, all by _myself_." Blaine nearly whispered; his voice was surprisingly calm, level, and clear. And with that that, Blaine grabbed his coffee and exited with such a dramatic flair that even his husband would be envious of.

_~X~x~X~_

"AJ, daddy's editing right now." Blaine called out, rubbing a hand across his temple.

"That's all you've been doing lately," AJ complained. He entered the den to find his daddy lying on the floor, papers strewn around him with editing marks and scratches; the _My Fair Lady_ soundtrack was floating in the background. Blaine looked up and couldn't help but smile at his son; he patted the floor space next to him, and soon the two were looking over the rafts.

"What's your story about, daddy?"

"Well, little man, it's about a woman named Margaret, and Margaret is a single women living in 1973; she's in love with a man who is not a good man to her. It's about how she overcomes her fears and what issues the bad guy makes her face that makes her a better woman in the end."

"Does this Margaret get to experience Halloween, Daddy B?" AJ asked, eyes glowing with excitement.

"Well, I guess so," Blaine mused aloud, mulling the idea over with amusement. "Everyone experiences Halloween, whether they dress up or not."

"Yeah. What are we gonna do this year, Daddy B?" The previous years the three Hummel-Andersons had dressed in some type of trio, including the Three Stooges (It was quite amusing to watch such a show with a seven year old), Tall, Dark, and Handsome ("But I'm taller, Blaine. Look! And you're _darker_ than me. There's a reason my nickname is _porcelain_.") and Three Men and a Baby, where Burt Hummel joined them for obvious reasons.

"I don't know, punkin. What do you want to do this year?" Blaine asked as he began to scan over his chapter seven drafts.

"I don't know, that's why I asked you!" AJ exclaimed roughly, sighing. "I wish Daddy K could be here to give us good ideas."

Blaine sighed, looking up at the clock. It was pushing dinner time, though it would be a few hours later as Kurt's group had moved to the Midwest. "Do you wannna call him, son?" Blaine asked, pulling his Blackberry out of his pocket. "Maybe he'd have an instant idea. You know how he's good at those types of things."

"Yeah, he is! But won't he be in rehearsal? Or performing?"

"I'll s end him a text to call us when he can. As for you, mister," Blaine called out, a smile filling his features. "Start thinking about your Halloween costume! My sewing skills aren't nearly as extravagant as your Daddy K's but I can get the job done."

"Yeah, sure thing, Daddy B!" AJ squealed, laughing softly. "Hey, dad? Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." Blain commanded, preparing himself to the contents of this question; curious second graders could ask any_thing_ at any _time._

"What's for supper?"

_~X~x~X~_

_In rehearsal. Getting out early, around 9. Everything OK?  
><em>Yeah, AJ wants to ask you about our Halloween costumes. Love u baby. xxoo B

_ xxxxxxxxxxoooooooooo_

_~X~x~X~_

"AJ, come here!" Blaine exclaimed early on Saturday morning. He then heard footsteps pounding down the wooden hall; soon, his adorable son was lying in his lovely husband's place on their bed, an eager, curious look rearranging his features. "Your Daddy K's in the paper!"

"No way!" Exclaimed AJ, grabbing the New York Times as Blaine read aloud.

_Best Actors From Around Country Join Forces_

_It's an early morning in the City that Never Sleeps; around 5:30 AM, 37 actors, including sixteen understudies, met at local _Just a Swish and a Flick_ dance studio to begin rehearsals for a twelve months, four show season that will tour nationally. "The world was fortunate to have these actors before they were selected for this tour." Lead director Jacob Desiree told us during a ten minute routine break. "We are most lucky and unbelievable fortunate to have them all in the same group, same place, same stage, and same family."_

_ When asked if the group was indeed a family, actress Gerry Reed laughed, replying, "Of course. When you're with a group of for as long as we're going to be, it just sort of happens, whether you're prepared for it or not. We care for each other; we have each other's backs._

_This elite group of stage-goers was not selected at random. "These individuals [were selected] based on their experience and their talents, obviously." Walter Krebbs, head Music Director, revealed to us. "These are [truly] the best of the best. We're very fortunate to have them, they're very fortunate to have us; we're one big, happy, frickin' family."_

_ Many of the actors were thrilled at this truly spectacular offer; even being nominated for this trip was unbelievable to many._

_ "I'm proud to say I broke into tears." 30-year-old Kurt Hummel-Anderson told us exclusively. "Obviously it's a long time to be away from home." When asked if he wanted to send a printed shout-out to anyone special, he nearly pounced on the opportunity. "Yes! Oh, yes, of course! A huge shout out to my husband, Blaine, and favorite second-grader and son in the whole wide world, AJ. I love and miss you guys terribly and wish to give you a million and one xo's!"_

_ Others were not as homesick._

_ "It's good to get away from home, Alaskan-local Garret Mesoo told us. "I didn't give it a second thought."_

_ Rehearsals continued throughout the morning until eleven AM, when the group had to prepare themselves for one of their final matinees of My Fair Lady_.

_ Missing home or not, these actors have a job to perform, and as said by their director, "It's a pretty damn good show."_

"A million and one hugs and kisses?" Blaine exclaimed, tussling AJ's curls that were identical to his.

"His favorite second grader and son in the whole wide world?"

"Oh, he was talking about your other brother."

"Then he was talking about his other husband!"

_~X~x~X~_

"Hmm, that's a tough one, kiddo." Kurt replied, munching on his chips and salsa; Gerry was his mirror, gabbing herself on a phone to a friend or relative. "What were you thinking about?"

"Well, I don't know, really." AJ replied, pacing around the living room as Blaine cleaned up the kitchen from their supper of "Super Extreme Nachos that came from Radville", as Blaine put it. "I thought it might be kind of cool to be a zombie. Then I could chase Andrea around the playground."

"Ooh, Andrea, the cute girl with the red pigtails?"

"Dad, she's in the _third_ grade." AJ explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I've got to do something _really_ cool so that she'll think _I'm_ cool."

"It's a shame I can't use my professional make up kit on you! It has fake gashes and blood and goopy eyeballs that droop of your face… Lady Gaga would even be envious of the contents of this super special makeup kit!"

"That would scare her away, though!"

"True, true…" Kurt mused. "I'm sure Daddy B could do a pretty good job of making you look terrifying. There's not much work needed to do that!"

"Daddy B!" AJ gasped, giggling like a mad man.

"You heard me!"

"Say, what are _you_ doing for Halloween?"

Kurt paused to think, addressing this problem for the first time. "Y'know, I'm not sure precious boy. I think the old theatre here is going to be showing some old horror films. And, want to know the _coolest_ part?" Kurt breathed, his voice intensifying.

"What?" AJ replied in a near whisper.

"The movie theatre is supposedly haunted."

"NO WAY!" AJ exclaimed in a huge crescendo.

"Are you scared? Will you _pee your pants_ from being so scared?" Kurt tilted his head back, a huge guffaw emitting from him; Gerry gave him a questioning look. "I just might, AJ." He replied, shaking his head at the astounding second grade imagination; it was a true art form.

"What? Ahh, okay. Hey, Daddy K? I have to go, it's time for bed." It was impossible not to hear the disappointment in his young voice.

"That's a shame, but everything growing, _awesome_ boy needs his sleep. And you're pretty awesome, AJ."

"Thanks, Daddy K! You're pretty awesome, too! But Daddy B just said he's more awesome!"

"Tell your daddy B he needs to return to fifth grade English!"

"I love you, Daddy K. I love you so so so so so so much!"

"I love you, too, AJ. Never forget that. Goodnight! Now, put your daddy B on. Love you, kiddo."

"Hey, beautiful." An exhausted voice rang through the phone.

"Blaine!" Kurt nearly squealed; Gerry just shook her head, a smile forming on her lips, a wink temporarily closing her right eye. "How are you, mister?"

"Apparently, I'm terribly at English and should go back to the fifth grade. I'll be pretty close to a fifth grade classroom next week." Blaine replied, laughing softly.

"And why is that, dear husband? You know, they do have _adult_ English classes."

"I'll be helping out with AJ's Halloween party. Mrs. Klane needed all the help she could get and was tickled pink that I was so willing."

"That's great!" Kurt replied; his voice was a chameleon, changing its emotions from happy to sad at a rapid pace.

"Yeah. I wish you could be here to do it with me. I know how excited you get about parties." Blaine recalled, curling up on the loveseat and hugging one of Kurt's Marc Jacob t-shirts that had got mixed in with his laundry.

"Hey, we had the most rockin' first grade party in the school's history!"

"Right you are, babe. So, how's life at the drill camp?"

Kurt laughed shortly, nearly scoffing at the eerily correct description of rehearsal. "It's alright. It's pretty challenging, though nothing I can't handle. We have, however, started learning _Mamma Mia!_ Choreography, and this is our last week of _My Fair Lady_. Last night one of the ensemble members began to do the opposite choreography. I doubt the audience noticed as the issue was addressed quickly, but still, it was mortifying. And you should have _seen_ Jacobs's face. He was livid with a capital L, babe."

"I bet!" Blaine responded. "I've been crazy busy with AJ, running him to his soccer games every Tuesday an d Thursday, as well as finding time to write with the crazy deadline. Last night was his fall concert; you would have loved it. It was a tribute to Broadway classics."

"I bet it's amazing to see a second grader sing Maria's solo line in 'Favorite Things'."

"Oh, no babe, you haven't lived until you've seen a second grader perform 'Memory'."

"I bet!" Kurt giggled. "Say, Mister, your birthday is coming up in a few weeks. Anything you want?"

"You." Blaine responded quietly, sighing. "I want _you_, Kurt. I hate waking up and seeing an empty space next to me in bed. I miss receiving your little notes in my briefcase. I yearn for those nights where we'd get a wild hair and stay up really late watching _Titanic _and _I Love Lucy!_ Reruns. I miss holding you. I want _you,_ Kurt."

"… I want you, too, babe. I wake up every morning and eat breakfast with everyone, and I keep waiting for you to stroll in with your old Dalton sweats and untamed hair and glasses, because you're unshowered and too lazy to put your contacts in. I go to restaurants and read _every single food description_, simply because you said that one time that they're quite strange and that it would be the coolest job in the world to write descriptions for food. I miss finding your notes _in the middle of my sandwiches._ I miss holding your hand. I miss your voice. I miss you." His voice dropped in significant levels, becoming more intimate with every word he spoke.

"I love you, babe. I'll always love you, no matter what. Nothing will every change that." Blaine's voice was fierce, yet didn't hide the obvious fact that he loved Kurt with all of his body, mind, and soul.

"Stop it, Mr. Author; you're going to make me tear up in public. You're _so good_ with words."

"I have three more, gorgeous, before I go to bed. You ready?"

"Always."

"I love you."

_~X~x~X~_

"Thanks for taking Andy and I out for snow cones!"

"Of course!" Blaine replied, staring proudly at his son's frightening makeup and beaming at his makeup skills. "Andrea seems like a lovely young lady. And pretty! You've got good taste, little man!"

AJ grinned, watching as the sun trekked farther south; October 31st was turning out to be a fabulous day.

"Your Grandma and Grandpa Hummel are going to be at our place in a few hours to go trick or treating with us. How do you like that?"

"Really? Awesome!" AJ grinned. "Grandpa should be dressed up as a ghoul; he wouldn't need much makeup for it!"  
>"AJ!" Blaine exclaimed, hardy giggles escaping him. "You've been listening to your Daddy K too much!"<p>

_~X~x~X~_

"No more candy tonight, little man!" Blaine exclaimed, grabbing the plastic pumpkin pail that was nearly overflowing with sweets and placing it on top of the refrigerator. "You should save some for tomorrow. Say, what's this?" Blaine grabbed a piece of paper from the top of the Kenmore, reading Kurt's loopy handwriting.

_Dearest Blaine and AJ,_

_ Because of this trip for my work, I'm going to have to miss out on some pretty significant holidays and events. Every day, there will be a song on each of your CD's—listen to it and think of me with all of your heart. I love you to the moon and back. Love, Kurt/ Daddy K._

"It starts tomorrow, darling." Blaine replied. "We'll listen first thing tomorrow morning. Think really hard about daddy K, and I'm sure he'll be able to feel it."

Both AJ and Blaine fell asleep that evening, thinking about their loved one that was miles, hours, and time zones away.

_~X~x~X~_

**Oh wow, this was a fun chapter to write, and what was really cool about it was that I wrote it in sections. I was running errands around with my mother and while sitting in the waiting room, I began to work on this chapter, then I'd have to put it down, then I'd have more time, put down, etc… Ooh, will the Kurt/ Garret issue be addressed in the next chapter? Stay tuned to find out! Be there or be square!**

**~Victoria**

**PS: Just a reminder, even numbered chapters are in K's POV (point of view), and odd numbered chapters are in B's POV. (:**


	6. A Wrong Time

"Wait, Gerry!" Kurt exclaimed, putting a hand out to stop her from exiting the spa. "This is your first facial, you say? You need to fully experience the feeling of stepping out into the fresh air with dirt-free, grime-free, squeaky clean pores; it's a sensational feeling that you'll never forget!" He gushed, clapping his hands together. "I still remember my first facial like it was yesterday…"

"Yeah, yeah," Gerry replied, rolling her eyes in a teasing manner and lightly slapping Kurt's hands away. Once through the door, the two stopped, closing their eyes and sucking in a renewing breath simultaneously. An airy giggle escaped Gerry, and she lightly tapped Kurt's nose, smiling and laughing and joking.

"Did I not tell you?" He replied matter-of-factly, grinning as a group of kids all decked out in flashy costumes ran past them, pails spilling with candy.

"You did, Mister Hummel-Anderson, you did!"

"Say, Gerry, what are you going to do for Halloween when you and Joe decide to have a baby?"

"Hmm," Gerry mused, her fingers spinning together as she thought.

"I've got it!" Kurt cried suddenly, nearly jumping out of his skin. "Oh, this is funny, if I do say so myself! You could be G.I. Joe!"

"G.I… Oh, I get it! We'll just need to name our kid an 'I' name… So, Isaac… or Isabelle! I'm the G, they'll be the I, and Joe is, well, Joe!" Gerry chortled, looking at Kurt through her peripheral vision. "You're good."

"It's nothing," Kurt replied. "Except a natural talent. So, what are we going to do tonight, Miss Gerry? It's Halloween!"

"Let's go to that old theatre downtown! The one that's playing all the old horror films! The one that's _haunted_."

"According to my darling son, it's not a true frightening experience unless we _pee our pants_."

"What?" Gerry laughed, shaking her head in amusement.

"Yeah! He flat out told me that last evening when we were at supper!"

"Boys!" She scoffed, looking back at Kurt with a soprano giggle already emerging from her, her curly chocolate locks bouncing with her laughter.

"You're telling me!" Kurt replied, catching up with her. "Now, c'mon, let's get to the theatre! If we see a ghost upon entering, you've got to do two things. One, take my picture, so AJ can pee _his_ pants, and two, pick out your favorite candy so I can buy it for you."

"And if we don't?"

"Then we'll still get our picture taken, since we look simply _fabulous_ in our costumes, and two, I'll still buy your candy, because I'm feeling quite generous."

"You're simply a gentlemen, Kurt Hummel-Anderson." Kurt grabbed his friend's hand, and the costumed prince ("There's never a _wrong_ time for gold spandex, sweetheart, even if it _is_ a shirt.") and bumblebee walked through the crisp October evening.

_~X~x~X~_

"Yeah, always. I love you. Goodnight, Blaine."

Kurt had recently refrained from talking to Blaine or AJ in his hotel room, preferring the privacy of local parks or the sidewalk, where he could be free to state his thoughts without any fear of being overheard by an important director or a snooping roommate. He scanned his card and entered his suite; Garret's low voice filled the room with the baritone part to _Money, Money, Money._ Kurt picked up the tenor part easily, beginning to harmonize with him as well as practicing.

Garret turned around, eyes squinting until they were nearly closed; his lips pursed, forming a straight line across his face, which was wearing ugly attire for an expression. His singing was instantly done; suddenly, he was stuffing away the music and pushed his bag away as if it was some vile creature that had interrupted him. "What was that for?" He asked Kurt, standing up roughly and nearly staggering over from the quickness.

"I was simply harmonizing, Garret. That's what happens when two people sing notes that are in different octaves and sound good together."

"Yeah, I've covered my musical terms well enough, thanks." He replied lamely, plopping down on his bed. "Besides, maybe I wanted to practice on my _own_. Have you ever heard of that?"

Kurt groaned; _here we go again._ "Of course I have, Garret. I've been doing musical theatre since the age of three; I don't need you to ask idiotic questions."

"Well, whatever. It's late, I'm gonna get some shut eye."

"Are you planning to do so in the bathroom, then?" Kurt asked skeptically, watching as his roommate ambled towards the bathroom.

"No. I'm going in there to change to make sure you don't stare at me while I changed."

The door closed with a click and the rolling of a pair of blue-green eyes.

_~X~x~X~_

_Yeah, he's been an utter Neanderthal. It's just like high school again. Well, until you came into my life. xxoo K_

Well, people aren't always going to like you simply because you're being you and you're happy about it. He might find it threatening to his apparent masculinity.

_Well, he doesn't need to be an obstinate oaf about it._

Courage.

_I think I just fell in love with you all over again._

xxoo times 5011220. That's enough hugs for every second you've been gone.

_Did you even _read_ my last message? LOL I love you so much, gorgeous. Good night, sleep tight, and don't let me bite. (:_

I had my hopes up, darn. :-( Love you, babe. Thinking of you all the time. xxoo B

Kurt plugged his phone into its charger and set it on his nightstand, thinking deeply about the man thousands of miles away who was currently thinking about him.

_~X~x~X~_

"Oh, _God, _Blaine…" Kurt muttered, hugging his bedspread to his chest as he rolled over, eyes clenched tight in his sleep. His hands moved all around the blanket, taking in its every shape, its every contour, its every feature. Low noises continued to erupt from him, low growls escaping his throat.

"Kurt, what the _hell_ are you doing?" Garret asked angrily, throwing his blankets off of him as he sat up in bed.

"_Kiss me too fiercely, hold me too tight…" _He muttered as he tossed and turned. "_I need help believin' you're with me tonight… Blaine, Blaine… Hold me tight, Blaine. …Yeeeees…."_

"Leave it to Kurt to quote _Wicked_ lines in his sleep," Garret muttered, grabbing his covers… and then an idea hit him. It was a terrible idea, a _cantankerous_ idea. "Perfect." He murmured. Soon, one of evening's dirty tasks was complete.

_~X~x~X~_

"And I told him, I said, 'Sure, I can do that. If I need to shave my legs to fit the costume designer's grand plan for the show, I will.' If I had it my way, I'd simply get it laser-removed, though Blaine says he likes the feeling when—"

The two stepped through the door; it looked like the previews for _Contagion_; Kurt and Gerry were the disease carriers walking into quarantine. Every single pair of eyes was glued to Kurt's, unblinking; some had amused looks on their faces; some were simply staring; others were embarrassed to have their eyes caught staring, and turned away quickly. "Oh, God, is there something in my teeth? Gerry, I asked you to _look_…"

"Kurt, I don't… I don't think there's anything in your teeth." Gerry was staring at her phone, a recently received message filling the screen with a golden glow.

"Listen, what's going on?" Kurt questioned, staring around at the cast and crew. "What's the big joke I'm missing?" He began to panic, the sensation of it filling his stomach and crawling up his skin, burrowing holes into him and never leaving.

"Nice one, _Elphie_." Garret raved.

"What are _you_ talking about?" Kurt asked skeptically, his tawny eyebrows flying into the air.

"You haven't seen it?"

"Seen _what? _Seen what, exactly?"

"Well, it's my pleasure, Mr. Hummel-Anderson," Garret announced; he was the ring leader, and Kurt was the main act; the audience of cast and crew members were in the trance he was so skillfully casting; they were hanging on his every word. "It's my pleasure to be the first to show you."

"Don't!" Gerry cried quietly, her eyes wide with apprehension.

"Why not?" Garret challenged threateningly, watching with a sick type of glee as Gerry shied away from him. "Afraid your BFF will get hurt?"

"Can someone _please_ explain to me _what_ is going on here?"

"Of course." Garret obliged, and clicked play on his phone.

"Oh God, the _Wicked_ fetish." Kurt breathed, horrorstruck.

Soon, _intimate_ noises filled the room, Garret's snide snickers providing the only commentary besides Kurt's groans and whimpers.

And then there was yelling.

And Garret hit the floor.

_~X~x~X~_

The tension in the room could have been easily cut with a knife. Kurt sat next to Jared, who was in the middle; the vein in his forehead seemed to be throbbing; Garret sat on the opposite side of Jared, occasion moans of pain escaping him. All three sat facing an enraged Jacob, who decided that was a perfectly appropriate moment to bring his fists down on the table; Kurt gave a little squeak at the sound of the impact.

"What in the hell were you _thinking_?" Jacob screamed as his hands pulled on his stringy hair.

"May I ask who you're speaking to?" Jared dared ask, his eyes round with a sudden rush of adrenaline and sense of invincibility.

"May I—May I ask—_May I—_you, Jared, _you_, you're the one that lost yourself and decided it was a good time you take a couple swings at Garret!"

"And what about _him?_" Jared asked, staring hatefully at Garret. "What type of sick, fake person _tapes_ someone if they're _talking in their sleep? _I mean, who the hell does that?"

"Apparently Garret does." Kurt murmured to no one in particular; his face was red and blotchy, face cream be damned. He leaned his elbow on the chair arm and stared at the floor, wishing he was anywhere _but_ in Jacob Desiree's office.

"No, it wasn't right what he did, but this _isn't high school_, Jared. It may not be right to play stuck up, girly mind games, but it's going to happen. What isn't going to happen is you using physical contact to get your point across!" Jacob shrieked, his eyes growing wild with every breath. "Garret has received one of the leads; do you know how much money it would cost to try and replace him in _this_ stage of the game? _Do you?_"

"Is that all you really care about? Money?" Jacob roared, staring his director squarely in his eyes. "You don't care if your actors are being harassed and embarrassed by one another?"

"What I do care about is if my actors are _beating each other up!" _The lead director cried, taking a deep breath for the first time in the half hour that they had been pent up in his stuffy office. "If you're going to keep your job, you're going to need to figure out a way to keep your emotions out of the way and under control, or else I will simply not put up with your physical obstructions."

"What about the little problem of having roommates that are hazardous to each other's physical and mental health?" Jared questioned, placing a hand on top of Kurt's. "Kurt is one of our best actors, not to mention one of my best friends."

"That's all fine and dandy, Mr. Venna. And I haven't heard anything about a problem from Mr. Hummel-Anderson. I would assume that if he was to be having a problem with his room accommodations, he would have simply came to me and told me. Does that sound reasonable to _you_, Garret?"

"Yes, it does, Mr. Desiree." Garret replied, his face portraying no emotion.

Jared hardly glanced over at Kurt, shaking his head as if not understanding why Kurt had not gone to Jacob when the first problem started.

"Now, Jared, this is going to be your first and only offense of this whole trip, do you hear me?" Jacob asked threateningly, not trying one ounce to keep his tone under control. "One more slip up, however minor, and I'll make it my personal mission to see that your career on the stage will be no more. You are dismissed. No—"He began again, watching as Kurt and Garret stood up to leave. "You two. Stay. We need to have a little chat."

Kurt's stomach filled with a heavy dread; it weighed him down as once more he took his seat, facing Jacob and a new wave of fears.

"Kurt, I'd like to apologize, to begin with." Jacob told him; his voice was eerily calm and understanding, compared to the utterly terrifying, hair-raising voice he had recently been accustomed to.

"There's no need for you to—"

"Kurt, be quiet, I need to tell you something and your cooperation would be much appreciated." Jacob told him sternly, his fists slowly clenching and unclenching as if wringing an invisible sponge. "If you're having issues with another member of this production—I don't care if it's your roommate or not, of if it will squelch their feelings—you need to tell me if you're in danger or unhappy with something. It's my job as the director to maintain order and I can only do that if you're willing to go the extra mile and tell me when something comes up. Got that?"

"Yes, sir."

"As for _you_," Jacob growled, turning towards Garret. "What were _you_ thinking? I can understand if your buddy was doing something embarrassing or stupid that you might take a video of it and tease him with it. But, _this_, this is harassment. Do you understand that in the right court, with the right jury, you could go to jail for this? This wasn't a simple accident." Jacob exclaimed, the heated passion returning to his voice. "This was purposeful. I want you to tell me how you did it."

There was a moment of silence before Garret opened his mouth; his eyes were focused on nothing in particular, his face beginning to gain a reddish glow, like a burning coal.

"Kurt woke me up with… with his… _talking_… and, I uh, thought it was funny and would be perfect revenge—"

"Revenge for _what_, exactly?" Jacob asked, placing a finger on his chin and tapping lightly.

"For... For being gay, sir. I don't… We've had words about it. Anyways—I videotaped it and grabbed his phone that was sitting on his nightstand. I then… I then copied all of his contacts from the production and sent it to them from my phone."

"You _went through my phone_?" Kurt demanded, hardly daring to breath.

"I… Yes, Kurt, I went through your flipping phone, and nearly threw up when I saw your _ridiculous_ husband as your wallpaper." He mouthed to him, eyes nearly closed with disgust.

"You had no right to do that." Jacob stated firmly, staring Garret down as he spoke. "You had no right to go through his things; that's defacing private property, that is, Garret Mesoo. This will end. If I hear any news of you even _touching_ Kurt or any of this things, you will face the same fate that Mr. Venna will if he so far as touches a toe out of line. Are we clear?"

"Yes."

"Yes, _what_?"

"Yes, sir."

"Great. You're dismissed." Jacob told them both, sounding less than thrilled.

_~X~x~X~_

"Oh, c'mon, I think your _Wicked_ fetish is pretty cute." Gerry told him as he sat in her suite, his spoon digging deeper into the tub of Ben and Jerry's _Chubby Hubby_.

"Yeah, easy for you to think. You don't have it circulating through your closest friends. Honestly, there are some things you _don't_ need to know about people."

Gerry easily hid her approaching snicker. "Which one are you?"

"_What?"_

"You heard me. In your fetish. Which one are you? Glinda or Elphiba?"

"Oh, c'mon, this isn't really happening—"

"Yes, it is, and I'm asking. Now cough up, I bought you this nine dollar quart of ice cream and I intend on you telling me."

"Oh, the guilt trip, I'm the king of this, Gerry, so don't even try— Alright." One look at her stern, solid face and Kurt knew the game was up. "I'm… I'm Glinda."

_~X~x~X~_

**Woah. **_**That**_** was pretty intense. :P I do hope that Garret comes around. I'm still messing around with many scenarios in my head. Have an opinion? I'd love to hear it~comments are greatly appreciated. **

**Tonight, the 90-episode, Barbara Streisshand-esque, Kurt-Hummel-is-back-at-McKinley episode was on during the summer rerun series, and it made my night. So many ideas came to me because of it; I was grabbing my notebook faster than Kurt was eating that Chubby Hubby ice cream—which, by the way, I need to try in order to fully experience what it tastes like. Mmmm… Thank you for reading; I really appreciate all of your FF's and reviews. Sincerely, Victoria (:**


	7. Birthday Wishes

"Well, I think that looks pretty swell, AJ."

"Really? Thanks!" He replied, grinning up at his Grandmother Anderson.

"Sure. You haven't breathed a word about this to your father, now, have you?" She asked sternly, her eyes slanting downwards as she stared down her nose, forcing her emerald eyes at her grandson.

"Of course not!"

"Good." Lucille Anderson put her hands on her hips, staring at the backyard in an almost mesmerizing trance. There was a huge table sitting on the lawn, draped with a purple, silk tablecloth; "The table must be dressed properly, AJ. It's the foundation of everything; honestly, with your dads, I would have assumed you knew this." There were numerous white and grey balloons littering the lush grass and surrounding foliage; a huge, new plant of hibiscus was planted by the withered porch swing. A small mountain of presents rested in the center of the decorated table; one was artfully wrapped in past covers of _Vogue_ and _Elle_.

"Do you think he'll like it, grandma? Do you think he has any idea?" AJ asked curiously, watching as she took meager, careful steps towards the table, a towering vanilla cake wobbling dangerously in her arms; a few beautifully frosted flowers rested on top, stealing the limelight from the baked good.

"It's 'grandmother', AJ, names are nearly as important if not more than first impressions. Remember that." She told him earnestly, setting the cake down with success. "And as for your father, I don't think he has a clue. Now, go wash your hands and bring me the plates and cutlery, the guests will be arriving soon."

~X~x~X~

"Wes, David, it's such a pleasure to see you again!"

"Same to you, Lucille." David replied, a huge smile gracing his lips and setting his face aglow. "So, how old is Blaine going to be this year? I know it was eighteen last year, and yet I fully remember him walking around with a full bottle of Miller Lite in his hand…"

"It was for show." Wes jumped into the conversation, nodding slightly to their best friend's mother. "He wanted to seem as cool as the big kids who were able to drink."

"He's going to be 31!" AJ exclaimed through giggles, coming behind the two men and standing in between them; his head reached their chests, excluding the curls.

"31?" David grinned, tangling his hands into AJ's curls. "You're being polite, AJ, tell me how old your dad really is going to be."

"31!" AJ repeated, his eyes wide with innocence. "I swear! You can even call him up and ask him, David, and he'll tell you—"

"Nahh, David's just pullin' your leg." Wes proclaimed, grinning at AJ. "We'll see you around, mom—Mrs. Anderson! Lucille! Ahh!" The two walked away quickly, going to mingle with some more of Blaine's friends, which included some beautiful women.

~X~x~X~

"You're old."

"Good morning to you, too." Blaine replied groggily, his rough face unshaven and his muscles sore from an uncomfortable night of sleep. "Do you have something to say to me or should I hang up from this phone call that so rudely awoke me on my monumental day?"

"I have a little something to say to you," Kurt replied, staring at the phone receiver that was on speaker. "Now shut up and sing the bass line."

It was a tradition that he began since the day the two were married; on their birthday, the spouse would sing one part to the tune, 'Happy Birthday', and one would harmonize. This year was no different.

"Do tell, love, what part are they having you sing in this show? Because I'm sensing alto."

"Oooh, you're good!" Kurt giggled. "But today isn't about me. It's about _you!_" He clapped his hands together, pleased with his handiwork that was in the process of arriving to their doorstep. "Have anything special planned?"

Blaine sat up, throwing the sheets off of him as he attempted to rub sleep out of his eyes. "Mmm, it's a Saturday; I was planning on sleeping in."

"It's _10:30_, Blaine, I considered this way past the courtesy hour for thirty-one-year-olds."

"31? No, _seriously_?" Blaine muttered, shaking his head softly. "By definition, then, I am a cougar."

An unexpected laugh escaped Kurt; his face was pink with giggles, his hands twined together as he sat in the middle of his bed, simply enjoying life and nearly bubbling with excitement; he wished he could be at the big surprise party Lucille Anderson had planned, more so just so he could see Blaine open his gift. "And what is your definition of a cougar?" He challenged; he could nearly see Blaine answering this silly question.

"Well, obviously it's a man who went for the younger man who is way more mature than him and has taught him so many life lessons." Blaine replied in all seriousness. "And who is super hot."

"Way to go, Slugger." Kurt muttered, another giggle slowly rising to the surface.

"So, what'ja get me?"

"Oh no, not _this_ game again!"

A wide smirk attached itself to Blaine's features as he grabbed a pillow and scrunched it up, placing it on the bed so he could lean on it while talking to his beloved husband. "Yep. Oh, don't act so nonchalant, you knew this was coming and have had time to prepare for it for weeks. But, I have to admit, it's pretty cute." A smile upturned the corners of his lips, like a drawstring being pulled to tighten a bag.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mister."

"Do I take it from that response that I'm not going to receive an answer?"

"Most certainly."

~X~x~X~

"Happy birthday, Daddy B!" AJ squealed, abandoning the mop and jumping up to give his dad a hug.

"Thanks, Buddy! Wow… What's been going on, here?"

"Well, I made you breakfast, but it's almost eleven o'clock and it might be getting co—Oh. I see what you're talking about." The seven-year-old's face flashed a shade of pink that even Kurt would be proud of. "I was pouring juice and it spilled everywhere. But—"AJ continued, running over to the mop and continuing to sop up the orange juice. "It's nearly clean and it only hit the tile. I'm sorry, Dadd—"

"It's not a problem, I'm impressed!" Blaine replied, sitting down at the head of the table and looking down at his plate for the first time, expecting milk and cereal and maybe a granola bar. Instead, there were eggs sunny-side up, bacon, fresh melon, and lightly buttered toast with just a sprinkle of cinnamon. "AJ, this looks fantastic! But how did you know how to do all this?"

AJ glanced up at his father, grinning almost in disbelief. "Daddy K. Duh."

~X~x~X~

At quarter past five, the two Hummel-Andersons arrived at 1414 Chapel Hill Lane; it was a quaint house, painted chocolate brown with white shutters. Flowers were arranged in every window box, as well as around the wrap-around deck that was littered with rocking chairs; Blaine still remembered his father building the rocking chairs; they were a legacy to him, now.

AJ was being unnaturally quiet as the two walked the pathway to grandmother's house. "Hey, son, is everything okay?" AJ knew the plan, had practically rehearsed it in his sleep.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He replied sluggishly, taking a few steps towards the house. "I just really miss Daddy K."

"Yeah, I miss him, too. Terribly. Y'know, I bet we can Skype with him later, how would you like that?" Blaine's voice was soft, understanding, and concerned; his face was an airbrushed definition of these words.

"Yeah, sure thing, Daddy B." AJ replied, turning the doorknob and extending the door for an unsuspecting Blaine.

"SURPRISE!"

~X~x~X~

"Daddy B, Daddy B, stop _talking_, it's time for presents!" AJ ran up to his dad, David, and Wes. "Oh, my sincere apologies for interrupting." His face aflame, AJ stared down at his toes, _waiting_.

"You, dear son, are way too much like your Daddy K it's scary!" Blaine exclaimed, picking his son up and shaking him lovingly. "First, you cook me a huge breakfast _all by yourself_. Yeah!" He told Wes and David. "_AJ_ did! And now you've been planning this extravagant party with your sly Grandmother Anderson—"

"And I helped bake the cake! I even frosted one of the flowers!"

"See what I mean?" Blaine asked Wes and David; all three men had their eyes on the youngest Hummel-Anderson.

"Come _on,_ Daddy B, presents!" AJ grasped his dad's hand and pulled him towards the center of the yard; a single envelope rested on top of the head of presents.

"Blaine Hummel-Anderson, I've been informed that the envelope is to be opened last, as it is, and I quote, 'the best gift and must be saved for last, because the best is always saved for last'."

"Did a certain Kurt Hummel-Anderson tell you to say that?" Blaine asked, grinning.

"Who else?"

Hence, the present unwrapping extravaganza began. Many gifts were received, including a scarf and coat from Marc Jacob's Fall collection ("This hasn't even hit shelves yet, Blaine." At his questioning gaze, Wes replied, "I know people."), the complete first and second season of _Modern Family_, a new gold-plated watch from Burt and Carol, a gift card to _Burger King_ ("You'll two be together as long as BK keeps selling Whoppers." David grinned boyishly. "What, you aren't proud of my handiwork and wittiness? B…K…?") and nearly a dozen gift cards to different designer stores. At long last, it was time to unwrap the _last_ gift.

Blaine dug his thumb under the envelope seal and was soon reading a letter.

_Dearest,_

_ First off, I must say Happy Birthday; I hope I've made nineteen of them enjoyable, because every year that I've known you and we've grown older has been an adventure; some of the best years of my life have been made possible because of you._

_ As I'm _sure_ you've remembered, our nine year anniversary is in two weeks and five days; that's a Saturday. I'd love for you and AJ to come to California to visit for the weekend, as well as see our rendition of _Mamma Mia!_ that Friday evening. Mercedes is going to be vacationing in Anaheim that weekend, so of course I had to get her tickets as well, but she said she and Randy would be happy to take AJ that evening so that I can have you_ all to myself_. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, mister, though I'm sure it's nothing you're not accustomed to. So, how in the world are _you_ going to get to California? Dig deeper._

_ There aren't enough words to express how much I love you,_

_ Kurt Hummel-Anderson_

_ PS. If you sell this letter on eBay simply because it has my autograph I may have to pound you. And that, Mister Author, is how _I_ do innuendos. :) _

Blaine laughed through his wet eyes, reaching his hand into the manila envelope and extracting nine tickets: two plane tickets to get to California, two plane tickets to get back home, two tickets to _Mamma Mia_, and three to—

"Disney land!" Blaine exclaimed, ushering AJ forward to stare at the tickets. "Look what Daddy K gave me for my birthday! We're going to California, AJ!"

~X~x~X~

"AJ, put four stamps on that fat envelope, please, and let's book it out of here!" Blaine called to his son, buttoning his coat and fastening his at as he grabbed his luggage, rolling it to the living room. Despite the early hours of the just-beginning morning, he was wide awake; a certain thrill was inside of him. He was going to see Kurt in less than eight hours. Kurt, Kurt Hummel-Anderson, his husband, who had been away for five and a half months now, the one who he talked to every night, the one who woke him up every morning before his hectic rehearsal schedule simply to say 'I love you'.

Blaine grabbed the envelope and stuffed it in the post box; he had not only successfully completed the 20 chapter deadline, but was turning it in three weeks early with an extra seven chapters.

"Ready to see Daddy K?" Blaine asked AJ, tussling his curls excitedly.

"Yeah! I'm SUPER excited!"

"Well then let's get goin'!" Blaine called, and the two were off.

~X~x~X~

_Call when you land. I need you to meet me somewhere. There's a blue Chevy Accord waiting for you at the east end airport; it's under your name and is already paid for. Oh, and, babe—happy anniversary. xxoo K_

~X~x~X~

_ "_Yes, Santa Monica Place."

"And why are you having me go to one of the biggest malls in LA?"

"Oooh, I'm impressed with your knowledge of high-retail fashion, Mr. Hummel-Anderson." Kurt gushed, grinning with his closest cast mates as they went over the choreography.

"Kurt, seriously?" Blaine laughed, cruising the streets with all the windows down; AJ sat next to him, officially the coolest seven-year-old in the world with his new shades.

"You'll see. Just come and meet where I told you. I love you!"

The line went dead, and Blaine just shook his head, slightly apprehensive and terribly excited for what he was getting himself into.

~X~x~X~

"Now, this is right where Kurt said to meet him. Do yah see him, buddy?" Blaine asked AJ, glancing down at his son, who shook his head. Just then he heard someone yell, "1, 2, 3, 4!"

And everyone came alive. They were in sync, each moving their body a certain way to a certain beat to a certain song that they were singing. They were beautiful, twisting in and out of each other in staged choreography, their faces lit with smiles. Blaine and AJ were the rocks stuck in the river, watching as the water flowed past them, positioning themselves in a beautiful tableau.

It was then that Blaine realized what was going on.

This was a flash mob.

He allowed himself to fully soak in the lyrics, his head tilting back in a surprised chuckle.

_Honey honey, how he thrills me, a-ha, honey honey  
>Honey honey, nearly kill me, a-ha, honey honey<br>I've heard about him before  
>I wanted to know some more<br>And now I know what they mean, he's a love machine  
>Oh, he makes me dizzy<em>

_Honey honey, let me feel it, a-ha, honey honey  
>Honey honey, don't conceal it, a-ha, honey honey<br>The way that you kiss good night_

The group suddenly moved backwards and began to close in around Blaine and AJ; they were in the spotlight, when suddenly…

"BLAIIIINE!" Kurt cried, running from the crowd and throwing himself at his husband. Tears were streaming down his face as he pulled back, right before diving back in and kissing his husband with enough force to nearly knock him down.

~X~x~X~

"AJ! I remember when your Daddy K called me and told me you were just a mere _thought_. Now look at you! You make me feel old!"

"Sorry, Aunt Mercedes!" AJ grinned. "Can I show you my loose tooth?" He proceeded to stick his tongue behind one of his front teeth and push; it wiggled unstably, and he giggled, smiling. "Isn't that _cool?"_

_ "_Sure is!" Uncle Randy came up behind Mercedes, putting an arm casually around your waist. "I bet if I touched it it would fall out!"

"Oh, yeah, I'll go for that one again!" AJ replied, remembering the last time he had been with his Uncle Randy; they had been playing soccer in the backyard, and a sheer kick to the mouth knocked out a few baby teeth, the owner of them sobbing like a baby.

"Well, we'll be off." Kurt came up behind the group, clutching Blaine's hand with no intention of letting go. AJ squeezed Kurt goodbye, smiling up at him; was that a wink to Daddy B?

"I'll pull the car up, 'Cedes." Randy told him, waving goodnight to Kurt and Blaine, AJ following him ("You mean, you actually _own_ a yellow 2012 Mustang? Those aren't even _out_ yet!").

Mercedes looked at her two favorite boys, shaking her head and smiling. "You two haven't changed one bit!" She squealed, eyes moving to each face. "So, where are you guys heading for your special night?"

"Oh, a close, exclusive colleague of mine owns a private island up by Anaheim, and said we could use it." Kurt replied casually, squeezing Blaine's hand. "We'll see AJ on Sunday, right; you said we could meet you at Disneyland?"

"Of course, Kurt." Mercedes replied, hugging her best friend before baying them goodnight.

Little did Blaine know, it would be only be the start of what would be a very long, romantic evening.

~X~x~X~

Blaine was one of the luckiest men in the world. This much was obvious. He sat on the sand, wrapping his arms around his husband's chest, resting his chin on his moonlit shoulder. "Cheers," he whispered softly in his ear, and the two clinked their glasses of wine together, simply holding each other, simply enjoying each other, simply acknowledging that they were there, _together_, and alive.

"I have a confession to make." Kurt burst suddenly, turning his blue-green eyes on his husband.

"Alright," Blaine replied, his stomach clenching up, ready to provide an internal knuckle sandwich, if need be.

"I've decided to change your song for today, from the CD. 'Super Trouper' by Abba. More specifically," Kurt told him, watching as his stomach deflated from some held breath. "When she sings, 'So I'll be there when you arrive. The sight of you will prove to me I'm still alive." He placed a kiss right on his cheek. "And when you take me in your arms—"A trail of kisses fluttered down his right arm. "And hold me tight—"Tummy kisses and much squirming happened simultaneously. "I know it's gonna mean so much  
>tonight'." Kurt returned his lips to his husband's mouth, and soon nothing was unintelligible between the two.<p>

~X~x~X~

It was one of those mornings that was just _right_. Blaine's eyes cracked open and instantly shut; the sun was seeping through the windows, casting a porcelain glow on the god next to him. He turned his head slightly to stare at the beautiful man next to him before placing a small kiss on his shoulder blade. He adjusted his arms around Kurt and nuzzled his nose against his neck, falling back asleep. ~X~x~X~

**Well, d'awww, I'm so glad they're able to spend time together. :D Clearly, Kurt and Blaine are quite pumped about it as well. I decided to leave the Disneyland adventure to a whole chapter; it may be quite shorter than others, but it will still happen. :3 Also, I'd like to just announce that I have a blog :o If anyone leaves questions in the review sections, I will answer it there. (: Anyways, the link is : **.com/. **I really do appreciate all of the support on this story, because this chapter was hard to get through as far as writing; I knew what I wanted in my head, but I couldn't seem to get it out. I hope this chapter pleases you, as it took a few tries to get it right. Ahh, love that song. (:**

**Sincerely, ~Victoria**


	8. Relaxing and Renewing

"Mmm… Say, thank you again, 'Cedes. We really appreciate it." Kurt escaped from the bedroom, shutting the door softly with a goal in mind to not wake Blaine. He strolled around the huge vacation house in nothing but a pair of briefs, scrutinizing the artwork on the walls or the layout of the furniture. His lean figure cast slender shadows on the dusk-filled walls; he held the phone against his shoulder as he walked around, finally reaching the imported set of 19th Century French-style doors. Kurt's feet were soon sinking into sand; he kicked a little bit of it around, freeing it into the ocean as he dunked a couple toes in.

"Oh, I don't know what we're going to do today. No! I'm not going to discuss my love life with you. But… if I must be honest, it was _hot_. And that's all I'm saying about the temperature!" Kurt giggled, running his fingers through his unwashed, greasy hair that had acted as reigns the previous evening. "It's not like I've asked you about Randy!"

"Kurt Hummel-Anderson, get your cute little butt in here and stop wasting the little time we have together." Blaine stood in the doorway, a smirk carefully playing with his features.

"Bye 'Cedes!" Kurt eagerly pressed the end button and tossed the cell phone on one of the beach towels, nearly running up to the house.

"Damn, you caught me, trying to escape."

"_Again?" _Blaine replied, placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder and pressing him against him. "You've already been gone for too long." He placed a kiss on the delicate skin under his ear, embracing his husband's erotic reaction with a sick satisfaction. "And you're mine. All mine. " Another kiss was received, this time placed southward to the tender neck. "And no one else's."

"B-Blaine—" Kurt uttered, wrapping his arms around this beautiful man.

"You're all I want."

Kurt opened his clenched eyes, staring directly into Blaine's. "Then have me."

Soon, the two were up to a game they knew very well.

~X~x~X~

"Blaine, I already know what's going to happen." Kurt proclaimed loudly, talking through the door as his husband changed. "We're going to spend the day at the spa, where we'll have some fantastic massages and get to snicker snidely at each other's involuntary noises of relaxation. Then you're going to treat me to a pedicure, in which I'll jump up and down in excitement. We'll both be in big, fluffy white robes and will spend the day relaxing together, because that's what parents do when they have time away from kids, especially parents as cool as u—OH MY GOD where did you get that? That's not even on shelves yet!" Kurt nearly yelled, standing up and examining Blaine's new scarf. "_Vogue_ was raving that this was one of the most fashionable pieces of the season! You better guard it with your life, otherwise I will be _forced_ to take drastic measures to assure I can wear it, mister…!"

Blaine just laughed, shaking his head softly, sending a fresh wave of new cologne Kurt's way. "I got it for my birthday. Wes gave it to me. _He knows people._"

"Well, unless he knows Marc Jacobs himself, I'd like to know how he got it." Kurt replied, his bottom lip jutting out as he stared enviously at the scarf. "But, I bet my present was undoubtedly the best."

"I don't know," Blaine countered, spraying a little bit more hairspray on his curly locks and beginning to brush his teeth. "Those seasons of _Modern Family_ were pretty great."

"Blaine Hummel-Anderson, I will not allow you to compare me to a hit sitcom."

"It _is_ a great show, though, you have to adm—"

"I'm just teasin'," Kurt grinned, pressing his lips to his husband's. "Ew, toothpaste. Who buys cinnamon, honestly?" He pretended to be disgusted, spitting into the sink, before he grabbed his husband's hand and nearly pulled him out the door. "So what are we going to do today?"

"Well, you seemed to have your own little fantasy goin' on…"

"We've done that before—I did that last week with Gerry, Blaine!"

"Your surprised noises do make me smile…"

"Well, I think you've heard them enough recently."

~X~x~X~

"Blaine, I'm very flattered that you asked me to wear my tux, but if I may ask, why?"

"Well, first of all, you may, and secondly—" Blaine replied, grinning as he clutched his husband's hand and put the other lazily on the steering wheel. "That's my little surprise. You aren't the only one with the tricks up your sleeves and the ability to plan great surprises."

"Ooh, I'm excited!" Kurt gushed, grinning a grin that even the Cheshire puss would be envious of. "Can you tell me where—well, wherever we're going—is? "

"Nope."

"Can you tell me what we'll be doing?"

"Nope."

"Can you tell me _anything_ about it?"

"Nope."

"Blaiiiiine!" Kurt whined, inclining his head closer to Blaine's freshly shaven face.

"Kurt, you're distracting me from driving, babe." Blaine admitted, forcing his eyes back on the road. "I'll say this much: It's going to be fun. And I'll need to buy you a new tux before I leave."

"A new—this is a _designer_ tux, love. Designer as in _lots of money_."

"I'm aware. And you're worth it. _This_ is worth it."

The two continued down the long, winding Californian highway, passing cities of all sizes; they would be in dense traffic one minute, and the next they'd be the only car on the road. The landscape was amazing; the most beautiful parts of California were the parts that were not central tourist traps. Kurt lightly squeezed his husband's hand, watching as the sun began to lower itself towards the ocean; the land was intimidating the water with its rolling hills and tall peaks, twisting and turning with the highway. Blaine suddenly stopped on the shoulder, killing the engine as he stepped out of the car.

He looked slightly nervous, Kurt noted, and hurried over to where he was standing, grabbing his hand in his own. "I love you" Kurt told him as they crossed the highway, walking down a sloping hill; there was a grove of tall palms and pines, along with a white sanded beach where the ocean was practicing some choreography with the shore. Kurt stared at Blaine, the sun shining perfectly on him; he looked positively dapper in his auburn tweed suit; his green eyes nearly jumped out at him, perfectly contrasting with everything around him.

"Kurt," Blaine began earnestly, staring up at him with a near smothering look. He grabbed both of his husband's hands and pulled him close. "These eight years that we've been together… they've been indescribable. They've been some of the best years of my life. Not only do you move me, Kurt, you've taught me what it's like to be a man. You're so… you're so strong, and empowering, and you're yourself all the time no matter what. You're so admirable, Kurt Hummel-Anderson, and I'm honestly the luckiest man in the world just to be able to call you my husband. Kurt Hummel-Anderson—" Blaine lowered himself onto one knee, still clasping each of a crying Kurt's hands in each of his own. "Will you please accept my offer to renew our vows?"

Kurt's flawless face was a waterfall. "Oh, Blaine-!" He exclaimed in a fluttering voice. "Of course! Oh, of course, I've never been so sure of anything in all my life, except when I chose to be yours forever nine years ago!" He stuck his right hand out, expecting another ring; instead, Blaine grabbed is hand and pulled him towards the water. "Blaine, what are we—"

"Water is supposed to be a life source, right, babe?" Blaine asked suddenly, his eyes misting over as he spoke in a beautiful language of metaphors. "Well, you're my life. My whole life. It's a theory that if two are joined together with life, they'll be together for all of their lives and even when their lives end, they'll be together _in_ life, literally inside it, creating happiness for others. I want to be with you for all of my life, Kurt." He slowly walked backwards into the water, until it was up to his knees.

Kurt suddenly knew why he was going to need a new tux.

He, however, didn't hesitate in the slightest, stepping right into the water to join his husband. He stuck his right hand out, watching as Blaine slipped a fancier gold ring on his finger; it was dazzling, carved with intricate designs and the definition of love. "It's b-b-beautiful!" He cried, putting a golden circle on Blaine's hand. "You're beautiful!" He lowered himself onto his knees and toppled Blaine over in a hug. The two soon slopped onto the shore, retrieving blankets from the car and towels, as well as a spare change of clothes.

That evening, they simply held each other for a while, watching as the sun began to descend underneath the nearby hills.

~X~x~X~

"So, now that you've won the Super—whatever you call it—what are you going to do?" Kurt hurried over to his husband, pressing a pretend microphone in his face and gaining the stature and voice of a frenzied reporter.

"I'm going to Disneyland!" Blaine cried, pumping a fist in the air as he finished getting dressed; he adorned a pair of pink sunglasses, sticking them in his curls and stretching a vintage Steamboat Willie t-shirt over his sculpted torso. "I'd say Mickey himself would be quite jealous of your outfit, dear." He told Kurt, grinning; he was wearing a pair of black skinnies, a white pair of patent leathers that had Minnie Mouse's face on the toes, a red cotton shirt with a plain Mickey head on it, and yellow suspenders with white polka-dots.

"He should be." Kurt replied, fixing his hair in the mirror. "It's not every day that one goes searching for Minnie Mouse shoes. Especially not when she's in her 1928 premier in _Steamboat Willie_. My eBay account must have the strangest search history ever created."

"Well, you might just have to show her your shoes. That would be quite the picture!"

Kurt dabbed a smile on along with his facial moisturizer and sunscreen. "We'll be quite the picture in front of Cinderella's Castle! She calls those glass _things_ a pair of sensible heels…"

"I thought the same thing when I watched that movie!" Blaine exclaimed, grabbing both Kurt's and his luggage and tossing it in the trunk. "But, I liked it nonetheless."

"If the shoe fits…"

~X~x~X~

The three Hummel-Andersons arrived at the Disneyland gates exactly three minutes before the park opened. Once inside, it was a _mad_ dash to the spinning tea cups, as AJ seemed to think that you could _puke_ on them if you rode them seven times in a row.

"Well, we'll just have to find out, won't we?" Blaine asked, a boyish smile gracing his lips.

Kurt looked less than thrilled. "If you want to toss your cookies all over the place on a children's ride, be my guest."

"Aww, c'mon, Daddy K! Please ride it with us!" AJ extended his bottom lip, his eyes growing rounder so that he resembled a curly-headed doe.

"Yeah, Daddy K, ride it with us!" Blaine repeated, grabbing AJ and Kurt's hands and walking closer towards the ride. "It's supposed to be really fun and— Oh! Hello there!" The Mad Hatter was standing directly behind them; AJ's mouth was on the floor at the sight of one of his favorite Disney characters. The costumed figure pointed his hands at the three Hummel-Andersons, and then back at the ride. He did so again, totally four times, before AJ grabbed his hand and flung himself on the ride. "Come on, Daddies!" He exclaimed, and soon all four of them were stuffed on a tea cup. All four of them stayed on the ride seven times. And all four of them finished the series _without_ puking.

"Did ya see that, Daddy K? I got his autograph! Look how cool that is!" AJ gushed, grabbing both of his daddies' hands and skipping through the park.

"That's pretty awesome!" Blaine commented, stealing a glance at Kurt. "We must have the toughest stomachs in the world!"

"That's for sure." Kurt commented, laughing and swinging AJ's arms back and forth.

"Kurt—" Blaine suddenly exclaimed. "There's your pal, Minnie, go show her your shoes."

The three waited in a fairly short line, each ready to see their favorite girl mouse. Once it was their turn, Kurt ambled up to Minnie, grinning widely and laughing for some unknown reason. She first pointed at Blaine's shirt, clutching both of her hands together as if swooning for her love. Once Kurt brought her attention to his patent leathers, however, that was all she could keep pointing at. The four took a picture, along with a huge hug, and soon they were off, riding many rides, visiting many characters (the Tarzan picture was priceless; Kurt stood there with Tarzan's arm around him, pointing at his loin cloth in mock horror at such exposure), and eating overpriced, greasy food. The day was truly fabulous and imaginative, just as Mr. Disney himself would have wanted it.

~X~x~X~

"Daddy K, I had a really fun time seeing you!" AJ exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Kurt and squeezing with all the force a second grader could muster. "I'm really, really, REALLY going to miss you, though. Especially with our Thanksgiving pageant coming up. Remember when you made my pilgrim outfit, and then ended up making half of my classes since it was so _cool_? Remember, Daddy K?"

"I sure do, precious boy." Kurt replied, his voice breaking at the end of this short sentence.

"He'll be back in seven months. We've waited five and a half. We're almost half way done with this time away from him." Blaine replied, staring down at his feet like he always did when he was feeling particularly emotional. "Besides, this just gives us a new challenge: to come up with even _cooler_ ways to stay in touch with him! Pictures and phone calls are going to seem like child's play when you see what we come up with, Kurt Hummel-Anderson."

Kurt simply stared down at his finger, his eyes boring holes into the rings, the rings that symbolized so many things he wanted to put into words right now.

"And we'll go over to Grandma and Grandpa Humm—" Blaine was instantly cut off as Kurt devoured his lips, suddenly pulling him close and hugging him in the process.

"This isn't goodbye." Kurt whispered in his ear, simply feeling his husband against him. "Not really."

Blaine simply stared at him, a watery smile beautifying his features. "I'll never say goodbye to you."

~X~x~X~

**Bahh, there was little AJ interaction there, but it just **_**felt**_** right to end it like that, quoting from the 'Born This Way' episode. I positively want Kurt's shoes… I wonder where he got those darling little things. (: I hope this gave a little more insight on how special and valuable this time was together for our two favorite boys. Sorry it was shorter than the others by about five hundred words… it simply felt right to me. :/ I'd love to hear what ya think!**

**~Victoria**


	9. All Shook Up

"Good evening!" Kurt nearly squealed, meeting Gerry in the lobby and grabbing her hand, nearly skipping his way to his room; Gerry staggered behind him, her eyes wide with surprise and an involuntary giggle escaping her hot pink lips.

"You're quite chipper." She commented as she was dragged behind him. "I take it you had a good time with your husband? And why didn't I get to meet him, Mister Hummel-Anderson?"

"Too busy." Kurt mumbled, arriving at his room and scanning his card.

"Oooh!" Gerry squealed, finally catching up to Kurt. "With _what_, exactly?"

"I'll tell you when you're older." He replied, opening the door and walking into a solid figure; a soft _oofph_ escaped him as he staggered backwards, gaining a gander at the figure he had ran into.

"Well, you're back. I was beginning to think my roommate was on a _permanent_ vacation." Garret told no one in particular; noticing Gerry, he ushered for the two to come in. The two sat down on Kurt's bed; Gerry picked up the portrait of the three Hummel-Andersons, along with a letter and a picture of 'Daddy K and Daddy B making my Thanksgiving costume'.

"So, where have you been?" Garret asked, standing in front of the Kurt like a parent scolding their kid after they return way past their given curfew.

"My _lovely_ husband came to visit me." Kurt replied, scrutinizing Garret's reaction with a sick satisfaction. "In fact, I invited him for our _anniversary_. Nine years," He told Gerry, grabbing one of her hands and squeezing excitedly. "Anyways—" His voice dragged down to a bored tone as he stared Garret directly in his dull eyes. "Our _son_ came, as well. Blaine and I spent Friday evening and Saturday together—we even _renewed our vows_, if you'd like to know." Kurt was indulging himself in the sick reaction Garret was nearly vibrating with. He stuck his hand out, marveling the two rings that sat on his finger. "Then, on Sunday, our beautiful family spent the day at Disneyland."

"You _renewed your vows?_ Oh, that's so exciting!" Gerry shrieked. "How did he do it?" She grabbed Kurt's hand, surveying the ring with astonishment. Kurt went on to explain exactly what had happened, gauging Garret's reactions out of his peripheral vision. "Yes. He's the sweetest, most perfect man in the world." He finished, swinging his feet back and forth on the edge of the bed.

Garret stuffed his hands deep in his pockets, scuffing his toe on the burgundy carpet. "Well, you could have at least _told_ me. I didn't know where you were. Granted, it _was_ quieter and less…"

"Less what, exactly?" Gerry asked, her eyebrows touching the clouds. "What was less, Garret?" She set the portrait and papers down, standing up.

"Nothing. It's nothing." Garret replied, staring at his feet.

"No, you obviously had something to say." Gerry persisted, pressing her hands against her hips. "Just get it out. I'm _waiting._" She added, watching as Garret nearly danced on the spot.

"It's nothing." He repeated, busying himself with straightening his comforter, something he _never_ did, Kurt noted.

"Garret—" Kurt started, hopping off the bed and staring at his desk. "Did these flowers arrive for me?" He riffled through the plant, searching for a card.

"No, they arrived from my jerk of a father." Garret told him, eyebrows forming a near straight line as his face hardened. "For the holidays. Screw him. You can go ahead and have them, you'd be about the only person I know who would appreciate the—"

Gerry suddenly screamed; it rose in many octaves and made the hair on the back of your neck stand in an applauding ovation. "Garret, what the _hell_ did you do? Oh, God—Kurt! Kurt!" She shrieked, hot, frightened tears streaming down her face as she dropped to her knees. She placed Kurt's blue-tinged head on her knee, pressing a few fingers to his neck and seemed to relax slightly. "He's still breathing, but you need to call 911. NOW!" She cried, murmuring words of comfort to her friend.

"B," He muttered through a constrained windpipe. "B."

It was unclear if he was trying to say 'bee' or 'B', as in Blaine.

And that was when Kurt Hummel-Anderson went into anaphylactic shock.

~X~x~X~

"I'm really sorry that I'm the one who had to inform you." Gerry gushed, her breathing quick and labored as she sat in the waiting room, her leg jiggling with nerves.

"I understand. Don't worry about it." Blaine replied, running a stressed hand through his chocolate curls. "Do we need to come? I can book tickets for tomorrow and be there around noon—"

"I don't think it's necessary." She replied honestly, shrugging to herself. "The doctor said he'll make a full recovery, ranging anywhere from an overnight to a couple nights. It sort of depends on the person. Did you know that Kurt was allergic to bees?"

"No, and I'll never understand why that idiot Garret wouldn't have noticed there were _live insects_ in his freakin' plant!"

"I know, I know, Garret's… well, let's just say he's not the brightest crayon in the pack of Crayolas."

"I couldn't tell," Blaine replied bitterly, peeking in at a sleeping AJ before returning to his tea and laptop; it lay abandoned, chapter thirty-seven awaiting completion.

"I'm really sorry that we had to meet on such rough terms." Gerry told him honestly, staring at the floor. "Kurt talks about you nonstop. You sound like a great man."

"Well, I'm lucky to have a great man." Blaine replied softly, staring at their wedding picture. "Say, Gerry?"

"Hmm?"

"If Kurt's feeling up to it, have him call me later. _Whenever_ he can. Even if it's at a ridiculous hour, alright? I just want to make sure he's okay."

"I will, Blaine, I promise." Gerry told him, nearly hugging him through the phone. "Have a good night… or, at least, try."

"You too, Gerry. Good night."

The doctor emerged from a pair of white, swinging doors, and approached Gerry and Garret; the two stood up once they saw the doctor, their faces alert.

"Is he alright?" Garret asked nervously, shuffling his feet as he stared at Gerry apologetically, as if he had somehow offended _her._

"He'll be alright." The doctor informed them. "He suffered from the typical case of anaphylactic shock. We had to stick a tube down into his throat to open his constricting airways. He's been given saline solution through an IV and appears to be doing alright, for now. It is not totally uncommon for the reaction to reoccur, so he will need to be observed overnight. If the reaction does not reoccur, he'll be able to leave tomorrow evening. We will, however, need to prescribe him medicine, and I need _one_ of you to make sure he takes this medicine; it's injected through the thigh and will be quite effective; he may seem drowsy and somewhat loopy, so it will be vital that he lays down when this medicine is taken."

"I'll do it." Garret piped up; Gerry's eyes grew round with initial shock.

"Alright," The doctor murmured, scrawling prescription names on a notepad.

"We'll need to alert our understudy." Gerry suddenly mentioned. "And Jacob. Oh, Jacob…" She stalked off, ready for an earful.

"Now, mister-?"

"Mesoo."

"Mr. Mesoo—you will need to make sure he takes this medication; I will show him where, and it will be up to you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. Is he up for visitors?"

"He's up." The doctor replied exasperatedly. Soon, Garret was being led to Kurt's hospital room.

Upon arriving, he spotted a pale, almost blue-ish Kurt lying in a medical bed; tubes emerged from his nose, hooking to a screen that was at a near constant _beep_. An IV was messily stuck in his arms. A nurse was tending to his blood pressure, checking it with an upside down smile playing with her features. "It's still down, sweetie. Abnormally low."

A sigh issued from Kurt, knowing that another dose of medicine would be added to the IV. Garret stuck his hand out to him, and soon Kurt found himself squeezing his hand as another needle slipped into his veins. "Thanks." he muttered, his drooping eyes not meeting Garret's.

Once the nurse exited the room, Garret sat down at a chair that was close to the bed, wringing his hands together as he stared at them. "Kurt, you have to know that I didn't do that on purpose. I had no ide—"

"I know." Kurt interjected. "I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm not convinced you would ever do anything to threaten my life."

"I didn't even _know_ you were allergic."

"I didn't either. I guess I do, now."

"Yeah," Garret laughed darkly, meeting Kurt's eyes for the first time.

And suddenly he started crying; his eyes were faucets what were turned to their full potential, flowing down the valleys of his cheeks and sinking into his dimples, occasionally dripping down to his neck. Kurt helplessly sat there, staring at Garret, a wave of understanding hitting the two men.

"I'm so sorry for everything, Kurt." He exclaimed, clapping a hand on top of Kurt's. "I hate myself for being so m-mean to you. And yet, you remind me so much of _him_, of that stupid wretch, that I can't always _help_ myself, it just _happens_."

Kurt merely nodded, his eyes welling with tears. "I don't want to be known as the hateful person who made yourself miserable. You're—you're more of a man than I am, Kurt, simply because you're not afraid to be yourself. And I think I'm suddenly realizing that."

He simply nodded, placing a hand on Garret's and patting it lightly.

Kurt finally understood. And he believed Garret did, too.

~X~x~X~

"You were the best looking one _in_ that hospital." Gerry told him, nervously casting a few quick looks at Kurt as they walked down the Oregon sidewalk.

"Well, you didn't need to convince me of that. While others drooled on their gowns, occasionally sloshing food down their front, I ate with a dignified manner and made sure my hair was perfect at nearly all times. Sleep is my downfall, I must say."

"Still—the most important thing is that you're safe."

"Oh, God, Gerry, you're sounding exactly like Blaine when I returned to McKinley in our beginning years. That's all he was worried about. And while it was sweet and dreamy and all of that good stuff—" Kurt rolled his eyes, stuffing a hand into his pocket. "There are more fun things to talk about, anyways."

"Say, speaking of Blaine, did you ever call him back?" Gerry asked after informing Kurt of their lovely exchange.

"Yeah, I did. He was really worried, but he said he was glad I was safe—_imagine that._"

"I think it's sweet." Gerry replied, standing a little straighter as she spoke. "I would kill for a phone call from Joe.

Kurt's eyes widened at the desperate levels in her voice. "You will. It will be sooner than later. He will come back home." His voice was fierce, compelling.

Gerry simply stared at him, and soon she was hugging him, her chin resting on the edge of his shoulder. "Thank you." She nearly whispered, and soon the two were continuing down the sidewalk. It was a lovely Thanksgiving day; the Oregon foliage was putting on a brilliant show as oranges, reds, yellows, and brown leaves danced around them, spinning in circles and playing a game of hide and go seek. A crisp breeze rang through the air; it was the perfect fall day.

All around them, couples held hands and simply enjoyed each other; they were the definition of _thankful_ as they stared at each other.

Kurt's stomach felt empty, and he realized why: Blaine was not here, and although he knew he was thankful for the man that changed his life, he needed him here with him to truly prove the point.

~X~x~X~

That evening, the cast and crew joined together in a huge room where a long table was extended, filling the space with laughter and a huge home-cooked meal. "Remember, people, you're performing tomorrow evening, and while Thanksgiving is a time to give thanks and eat a lot of good food, remember, you've got to fit into your costumes tomorrow evening!"

After a second round of pies, the group went around the table and told everyone what they were thankful for. Most people mentioned their spouses. When Garret's turn rolled around, he merely replied, "I'm thankful for forgiveness."

~X~x~X~

December rolled around the corner at a quick pace; the National tour soon found themselves boarding yet _another_ plane; this time, passports were required, as they were traveling to London, England. Kurt sat next to Gerry, leaning against the window and sporting what one would call 'an ugly Christmas sweater'; however, it was Blaine's, and he wasn't concerned about just _anybody_ who was going to call him out on it. Soon, he pulled out a notebook and began constructing a letter; _'Merry Christmas, Darling' _was playing in the background.

_Dearest,_

_Merry Christmas darling  
>We're apart that's true<br>But I can dream and in my dreams  
>I'm Christmas-ing with you<em>

_ I'm currently aboard a plane, and I can't stop thinking about you. It's pretty ironic what song came on over the plane speakers; can you guess?_

_ Listen to the lyrics. That's all I wanted to say._

_ Loving you, Kurt Hummel-Anderson._

_ P.S. I'm giving you permission to listen to December 25__th__'s song today; you may find that it ties itself to this note._

_ P.P.S.S. I love you._

_ P.P.P.S.S.S. xxoo _

~X~x~X~

**Woah! :O Intense. :P**

**I start school tomorrow, so the chapters may not be arriving as quickly. But—never fret. I will keep working on this story… I'm quite excited for it to keep progressing. (: Thanks for all the nice comments and trafficking… it rocks some serious ugly Christmas socks. :3 Until we meet again~**

**Victoria**


	10. We're Apart, That's True

"I'm just saying, I don't think you should be _alone_ for Christmas."

"I'm not going to be _alone_, mother." Blaine replied as he drove to AJ's school, braving the snow-packed roads and frigid temperatures. "I've got AJ."

"And do you _honestly_ think that that's going to be enough, Blaine?" Lucille Anderson asked skeptically, staring at her nails and scrutinizing every imperfection with a designer's eye. "Don't you think that he needs more family around? What about his other dad, hmm?"

"It's not like Kurt can just come home, mom, we've been over thi—"

"Blaine Anderson, there's a little thing called respect, and I will be treated with it."

"Sorry, _mother_."

"That's better." She told him sternly, clucking her tongue at his laziness. "Now, what were you saying?"

"I _was_ saying that it's not like Kurt can just come home. If he could, I'm sure he would. He's overseas right now, and it wouldn't be fair to the produ—"

"That's your problem right there, Blaine Anderson—"

"It's Blaine _Hummel _-Anderson, mother. I wish you would acknowledge that more often!" He expressed sharply, his voice rising.

"Well, son, I wish you would acknowledge the fact that you can't always do everything by _yourself_. You're good at a lot of things, but no one can do everything."

"So, what are you implying?" Skepticism was nearly seeping through his thin tone.

Lucille seemed to have many years of practice to rely on when these types of situations would arise. "I'm saying that you should be near family during the holidays. It's not fair to you or August James to be _alone_ during the holidays."

"We're not _alone!"_

"You're more alone than you were, son!" Lucille cried passionately, her inner lawyer digging a hole through to the surface. "You simply need to _acknowledge_ that fact! That's all I'm asking!"

Blaine nearly scowled as traffic inched by, a heavy sheet of snow spinning through the brisk winter air. "Well, it's not like you and dad are available for the holidays."

"No, and we should be allowed to take a vacation. If I'm not mistaken, you just did a few weeks ago, am I correct?"

"Yes." He replied grudgingly, trying to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

"Well, then, I see no reason why I shouldn't be allowed to do the same. All I'm suggesting is that you see what Burt and Carol are doing for the holidays, or maybe Finn and Rachel. What about David? Or Wes?"

"Burt and Carol are in Hawaii, and David is going to visit his parents… Wes, I think he mentioned something about _another_ girlfriend."

"So what about Finn and Rachel? You like Finn well enough, right?"

"Of course I _like_ them, mother, they're family, after all."

"Just because they're family doesn't mean you have to _like_ them." Lucille mentioned bitterly, directing the sentence at nobody in particular; however, her statement seemed like a kick below the waist, and Blaine could feel it. It brought him back to his high school days, to his coming out days and the disapproval that was so prudent, that stuck with him until his early adult years, that was probably still labeled across his name in his mother's eyes.

"Well, _mom_, I've got to go, I'm picking AJ up right now. Talk to you later. Bye." He hung up the phone quickly, not waiting to receive a response. His anger was mixed with an instant regret; it clung to him like a leech; it wasn't ready to leave and probably wasn't going to leave any time soon.

The door suddenly opened; the heated car was exposed to a blast of 22 frigid degrees, along with a bundled second grader who was red all the way from his cheeks to his new coat to his snow boots. "Hey, Daddy B!" He exclaimed through chattering teeth.

"Hello, August James." Blaine replied, trying to disguise his voice as upbeat from its original tone of boring. "How was your day at school today?"

"It was pretty good. We spent the whole class of choir practicing for our concert tomorrow! Did you know that tomorrow, there are only three more days until Christmas?"

"Wait a second…" Blaine suddenly remarked, staring at his excited second grader through his rear view mirror. "Does that mean that Santa Claus is coming?"

"YEAH!"

"Well, that's a shame. He only comes to boys' and girls' houses that have been good. I guess he'll only be leaving presents for me this year."

"Daddy B!" AJ gasped, removing his hat; his curls tumbled out as a toothy grin appeared on his face. "You're kidding! I've been a good little boy all year long, and you know that!"

"I _do_ know that, precious boy." Blaine replied quietly, staring off into the drifting snow as he carefully maneuvered through the bustling New York streets.

~X~x~X~

The two Hummel-Andersons pulled into their driveway to find another car parked there; it had been there for at least a couple hours; the snow was sitting in a nice pile on top of the car; its tracks that lead into the driveway were nearly covered. "Who is that, Daddy B?" AJ asked curiously, grabbing his daddy's mittened hand as the two ambled carefully to the front door.

"That's a very good question." Blaine replied, reaching for the key to unlock the door. Instead, it was opened for him, and soon he was being pulled into his house by strangers. Soon, they were embracing him, and stuffing a warm cup of hot coco into his hands.

"Shh, don't tell Kurt, but there's real sugar in there. Yes, I did my research, Blaine Hummel-Anderson, and am well aware that dark chocolate is much better for your whole body and its rejuvenation process—plus, sugar will sweeten you up, it looks like you've had a rough day. Is everything alright? Are there issues between you and Kurt?"

"Rachel, let him _breath_." Finn placed one of his hands on her shoulder, the other on her protruding baby bump.

"Of course, I was just informing him on the health benefits of coc—AJ!" She squealed, hugging her nephew and soaking the front of her sweater with his snow-covered jacket.

"Aunt Rachel! Hey, Aunt Rachel, can I listen?"

"What? Oh—sure, August, let's get you out of those boots and—oooh, I can tell who picked out your _Dior_ coat!" He shimmed out of his coat, sticking his ear eagerly up to her belly.

"Sorry for just showing up here." Finn dug his hands into his jean pockets, watching as Blaine unwrapped his scarf and untied his boots, all the while hiding his surprised face. "Your mom just called and said that you were feeling really lonely, and stuff, and Rachel said it was about time for a visit."

"Well, it's not a problem at all." Blaine replied, hanging his coat on the rack and placing his hat on top, like the finishing cherry on a mountain of whip cream in a heaping bowl of vanilla ice cream. "It's always good to have company during the holidays—and, you're just in time for AJ's Christmas concert."

Rachel squealed excitedly, her face nearly glowing with excitement. "August James, you're going to be the best performer up there. "

"Really, Auntie Rachel?" AJ beamed, taking a seat next to her on the hearth.

"I hope you don't mind." Finn mumbled, his face glowing like embers.

"Of course not." Blaine told him, revealing his face for the first time. "You're always welcome here. Oh—if you'll excuse me, Kurt's buzzing in—go ahead and make yourself at home, that's strange, it's nearly two in the morning there…"

Blaine excused himself into the other room, answering the phone with a curious, "Hello?"

"Blaine, I can't sleep."

He nearly sighed, plopping down on the loveseat in the formal living room and staring out the window to the near blank sky; it looked like a piece of drawing paper, minus the artistic scribbles. "Late night, babe?"

"Yeah. Are you free right now? I could really use some cheering up, because I'm suffering from a terrible case of homesickness."

"Well, you'll never believe who was at my house when AJ and I arrived home. Uncle Finn and Auntie Rachel are here."

"Rachel Berry? At our house? At Christmas? Oh, why can't I be there to take in the Broadway talk and obsessive baby chat of a star who is settling down? Oh, babe, don't have _too_ much fun without me."

"Even when you're exhausted, you always manage to work sarcasm into your sentences. I'm quite impressed."

"So I take it you don't have time to tell me a story? It's alright if you don't." Kurt mumbled, his tone dropping much like how it was suddenly darkening outside. "You should get back to your company; it's only the polite thing to do."

"Call me when you wake up."

Kurt bit his lip. "It will be around 1 in the morning for you, though."

"I know. I promise you I'll tell you a story then. And all of the lovely chats we'll have with Auntie Rachel and Uncle Finn."

"Don't have too much fun."

"I'll try my best." Blaine responded, rubbing his eyes as he bayed his husband goodbye.

~X~x~X~

"You were simply spectacular as that shepherd!" Rachel crooned, tussling AJ's curls and grabbing his hand. "What did you do to prepare for the role? Did you gargle warm water with lemon extract before hand? Y'know, that's how professionals warm up their voices before every performance; I find it gives you that little extra power you need to belt out those power notes, and you did just that on your solo in _'Happy Holidays'_."

"Thanks, Auntie Rachel!" AJ grinned.

"Yeah, kiddo, you did a really nice job! It was priceless to see little kids in beards."

"Yes, Finn, that's nice and all, but I think we need to focus on how he prepares for his roles, because as he gets older, it's not all going to be fun and games—"

"Rachel, he's seven. He has plenty of time to rehearse." Finn replied. "Besides, I'm sure our child will be the most prepared one up there."

"Oh, Finn!" Rachel gushed, kissing him lightly on the cheek as Blaine came up behind AJ and gave him a tight hug and congratulations. "Aren't you excited? This is going to be _us_, soon. We're going to be going to concerts, and then before we know it it will be high school graduation and then college and we'll be sitting in rockers outside of our house reminiscing about our glory days!"

~X~x~X~

December 24th arrived in a blustery state; the three sat around the dancing fire, the laptop centered on the group. Kurt's face appeared on the screen for a near three minutes before he was whisked off for yet _another_ rehearsal.

"I'm sure Auntie Rachel would love to finish the story, AJ. I bet if you asked her real nicely, she'll give in."

"Well, no one can resist that cute little face!" Rachel squealed; she patted the couch space next to her, and soon the two were enthralled in _The Night Before Christmas_.

Blaine motioned for Finn to come with him, and soon the two were preparing for the next morning, arranging presents around the tree and stuffing stockings ("Do you do this every year?" "Yes, Finn. I guess for some, the magic never wears off.")

The two reentered the room, only to find Rachel and AJ asleep, their heads on each others' shoulders.

~X~x~X~

_I could positively kill Jacob 4 making me leave. Something that should have taken five minutes turned into five _hours_. It's _Christmas Eve_, has he ever heard of a little thing called a _holiday?_ Missing you~ xxoo K._

Auntie Rachel came 2 the rescue. We'll definitely need to Skype before your evening performance tomorrow. AJ did gr8 in the concert. xxoo B

_Will do. Merry Christmas, Darling. xxoo K_

I love you more than words can explain right now. I wish you were here so I could give you a kiss under the mistletoe. xxoo B

_You wish I was there so you could do more than just that. xxoo K_

I'm trying not to get my hopes up. xxoo B

~X~x~X~

"Daddy B, Daddy B, wake up, it's Christmas!" AJ squealed, jumping up and down on Blaine's bed in his spaceship pajamas. "C'mon, Daddy B, let's go see what Santa Claus left us!"

Soon, second grader hands were shaking him awake; Blaine pulled on a pair of sweats, one of Kurt's old t-shirts, and his glasses, dragging his feet down the stairs towards the den. Once arriving, he greeted Rachel and Finn, who were eagerly watching AJ's gleeful reaction to all of the presents. "Look what Santa left in your stocking!"

"DADDY K!" AJ cried, staring at the laptop and pressing his face up to it.

"Merry Christmas, darling boy!"

"Oh, Daddy K, I wish you could be here! Look at what Santa left me!"

"I see!" Kurt grinned, wanting so badly to reach through the screen and embrace his darling son; Blaine crawled on the floor next to AJ, smiling sleepily and waving. "Now, enough talk; start opening some of your presents!"

The present haul was once again quite extravagant, including a new remote-controlled rocket ship red go cart, a new Hot Wheels set and racetrack, some 'How To Draw Dinosaurs' books, a few G.I. Joe dolls, a new Nerf gun and pistol refill kit, a gift card to Toys-R-Us, and some new clothes.

Kurt couldn't help but beam at his husband's reaction to his gift (a set of tickets for him and AJ to fly to _Tokyo, Japan_ for the final performance; "We can take a mini vacation in Japan—think how culturally exposed that will make AJ! Plus, there are some pretty _steamy _hot springs we'll have to visit—Gerry is staying for a little while after and offered to take AJ for a day. ;-)".

Rachel received many baby gifts ("They're not Christmas gifts, they're merely gifts that my Christian husband gave his Jewish wife because he loves her".), as their child was due around the middle of February ("Wouldn't it be amazing if she was a Valentine's Day baby, Finn?")

Finn's highlight gifts were season tickets to The Chicago Bear's games; there were two in case Rachel wanted to go; Burt was a definite backup.

"This Christmas has been TOTALLY AWESOME!" AJ squealed; nearly five minutes later, he was passed out under the tree, asleep. Kurt merely smiled, shaking his head as small little tears welled in his eyes. "I wish I could be there with all of you."

"We understand, Kurt." Finn told him, apparently unsure of where the camera was, because he stuck his nose right at it. Rachel moved him away quickly, grinning at him apologetically.

"We wish you were here, too. We're definitely going to have to get together again when you get back."

"Yeah." Finn added, seeming to have successfully found the camera.

"Hey, Blaine?" Kurt asked softly, motioning with his finger for Blaine to come closer.

"Yeah?"

"Merry Christmas, darling."

~X~x~X~

**Bahh, Blaine's mom makes me angry. :P **

**I give you chapter ten… I find it ironic that it's been one of the coldest days of summer here and I just so happen to be writing about frigid weather. P: Anyways, thank you so much for following this~ I sincerely appreciate it. I don't own Glee, though bow down to the brilliant writers. Thank you for all that you do.**


	11. Reaching an Understanding

"C'Mon, people, I could do this in my sleep!" Jacob cried, his feet banging the ground in a heated frustration, not unlike Godzilla smashing a city and emitting terrifying noises of rage. "You're going to need to step up your game. We're going back to pre-K here. Do I _need_ to tech you how to lace your shoes as well? Maybe ask you to wipe your noise so I don't have to do _that_ as well?"

There was a collective rumble of groans and apologies that circulated through the room, drifting towards Jacob as the cast continued to rehearse; nearby, a clock tower chimed eleven times. "Now, it's clear our minds are focused somewhere else. Maybe it's… on food?" His eyes met Garret, who had sincerely been attempting the move with his partner for the last half hour. "On our spouse?" His eyes landed on Gerry. "Or, maybe, our kid." He picked Kurt out of the crowd, who had mastered the move and was now trying to help his partner. "Well, I hate to be blunt, but they're not here, nor will they be. You need to forget about them for now, do what's needed, and then we might actually be able to leave. Take your own damn time to think about those _meager_ matters, alright?"

For another hour and a half, the cast continued to dance; at 12:43 AM, they were released; tired, _starving_ bodies slouched through the door, heading for the nearest 24-hour diner or ambling back to the hotel, sleep clear in their eyes.

"Do you think Jacob has ever _killed _anyone?" Garret asked, clapping Kurt a couple of times on the back as if to wake him up; the nighttime air bit into their skin, sending a blast of icy air against their heated, sweaty skin.

"Mentally or physically?" Kurt asked, pulling out his phone and seeing that he had received five new text messages.

_Daddy K, this is AJ! :-) Daddy B is typing for me… I miss you a lot, Daddy K, and hope your performing is going gr8! I wish you were here with Daddy B to sing me to sleep. :-( Still, I know you're having fun. Love you! xxoo AJ_

_ Hey, son. Hope everything is going good. Miss you a million! –Carol_

_ I had a dream last night that we were back at McKinley… except that everyone was in their underwear. You were wearing _Vogue_ covers instead. Thought you should know. –Finn_

_ Kurt ~ I miss you terribly. I know you're doing a fantastic job and enriching people's lives with your beautiful talent. AJ has a project at school where he has to make a timeline of his life, so I was searching through the trunks in the attic for old photos and found our prom pics. What a wonderful time we had together. Book is almost complete! Love you. xxoo B_

_ P.S. _

"Well, both, I guess. I mean, all of those dance steps really messes with your head _and_ your body." Gerry caught up to the two men, placing herself on the end, next to Kurt. She was sweating profusely, her chocolate curls plastered to her forehead in a fit of perspiration; she was pale, her lips nearly jumping off of her face as they were the only thing with a substantial amount of color.

"Gerry, are you feeling alright?" Garret asked casually, his face gaining a concerned look.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"No, seriously." Kurt grabbed her arm and stared at her through sleep-deprived, blue-green orbs. "It's okay if you're not. We can grab something real quick to eat and then head back to the hotel. We have plenty of time, since rehearsal doesn't start till two tomorrow."

She considered this option, finally caving in. "Sure. Let's just go there, grab a burger, and skedaddle—because, to be perfectly honest, I could probably collapse right—"

"Oh my God!" Kurt squealed, instinctively shying away from a hurling Gerry. She was bent in two, retching into the gutter; Kurt apprehensively approached her and held her curls back, rubbing soothing circles on her back like he had done with AJ and Blaine many times. "It's okay, sweetie… Get it out, it helps… You're going to feel tons better when this is all over…"

"Kurt, I'm so sorry!" Gerry cried, hot tears leaking down her face. "I didn't mean to—"

"I know, I know, what's most important is getting you back to the hotel room and getting some drugs in your veins to make sure you feel better."

"But Jacob—" She protested, color nearly dripping off of her transparent skin.

"I can handle Jacob." Kurt stated firmly; Garret walked around the pool of sick and grabbed Gerry's arm, and together the two men helped her to the hotel and into her room, making sure she was alright as he brushed her teeth, ate a few crackers, and went to sleep. The two returned to their rooms around two in the morning and found themselves awake with adrenaline, both sitting on their beds and busying themselves with their phones and journals, occasionally writing down the choreography they had learned or verses they needed help remembering. "That was… That was very nice." Kurt stated, his eyes meeting Garret's.

"What?"

"What you did." Kurt stated, playing with his hands in his lap.

"What? Helping Gerry? Of course, I'd do anything for her. We've come to an understanding." Kurt merely nodded.

"Just like us."

"Just like us."

~X~x~X~

_"Knock knock…"_

_ A soft echo circulated through the room; in its wake were little sound waves that transformed into rainbows. _

_ "Blaine!" Kurt squealed, nearly jumping out of his bed and running towards his husband who had suddenly appeared at the door. He ran into his arms, hugging him tightly before stepping back to admire his handsome face._

_ But he was gone._

_ "Blaine…?" Kurt questioned; soon, AJ was standing there, exactly the same height as Blaine, and wearing his clothes, which were terribly baggy and extra long on him._

_ "Daddy K, why'd you have to leave us? It's not fair to us." AJ grabbed one of Kurt's most expensive Dior suits and began to maul it with scissors and glitter glue._

_ "No, AJ!" Kurt cried, reaching for the suit; it turned into Blaine, who was writhing on the ground with stab marks from the scissors and an odd glitter around his eyes, acting almost like eye shadow. "Blaine! No, no, no, wake up… C'mon!" Hot, devastated tears were racing down his face, heading towards the finish line as Kurt collapsed to his knees, grabbing Blaine's limp body as he tussled his curls. Then—_

"Kurt, wake up, dude, you're spazzing out over there!"

He sat straight up, his silk purple pajamas creating fireworks with the static linen sheets. "Blaine?" He called out, his face turning from side to side as he looked around stupidly.

"No, idiot, we're in London."

"So kind and poetic, Garret."

"Hey, just because you're feeling better, that doesn't give you the right to insult me."

"No, but it does make it more fun."

"Gerry, you're—you're feeling better!" Kurt exclaimed, standing up and wobbling on the spot as he tried to shake the sleep—and the bad dream—out of his system.

"Yep, I'm up and runnin'." She told him, her eyes glittering from the bright light that was seeping through the windows. From the look of it, it had to be way past morning.

"What time is i—"

"It's eleven, Kurt. Now, go get ready and in your rehearsal clothes, we actually _want_ to go out to eat before we have to be at the studio. Thanks." Garret pushed him towards the bathroom, rolling his eyes as he did so. "And you don't _always_ have to apply, rinse, and repeat. We want to eat _today_, not in a couple days."

~X~x~X~

"Kurt, you need to—"

"Gerry, what are you still doing here?" He squealed, stepping backwards into the bathroom as he tightened his grip around the towel around his waist.

"Oh, c'mon, it's not like I haven't seen any of this before, Kurt. But seriously… Garret just got off the phone with his father. Who lives in England. Yeah, I know!" She exclaimed, nodding her head anxiously at his eyes, which were larger than dinner plates. "So just… be sensitive. He's worked up about if he's going to show up at a show, or if… I don't know what he thinks, but I'm sure—"

"I know. I'll downplay it."

And with that, he shut the door and tried to prepare for a day of endless possibilities.

~X~x~X~

"Rachel, I'm so happy for you!" Kurt squealed into the receiver at 1:50 PM, standing outside of the rehearsal space with his costume for the evening in his hand.

"Well, thank you, Kurt! Finn and I… Well, I was wondering more, really, and he said he would totally agree to it, which is so sweet of him, but—we were wondering if you and Blaine would like to be… Well, we were wondering if you would like to be godparents?"

"Oh my God, Rachel Hudson, I will always jump on the opportunity to have another person call me The Godfather! Of course! I'm sure Blaine would be more than happy with that, but call him up and tell him anyways! Oh, thank you, Rachel!" He exclaimed, nearly jumping up and down from excitement.

"Of course, Kurt. I was rather disappointed that she wasn't born a day later—then it could have been on Valentine's Day, and we were going to name her Valerie—but, the most important thing is that she came out positively screaming. My dads said I did the same thing, so I've come to the conclusion this can only mean one thing: that she's inherited my vocals."

Kurt sighed. "Rachel, it's okay that she wasn't born on Valentine's Day. Do you _know_ how cliché that is?"

"Well, you're right." Rachel concluded, taking a breath for the first time in what seemed like ten minutes.

"Listen, Rachel, I've got to go, I have one more rehearsal before our opening night of _Memphis_."

"_Memphis?_ Oh my God, it's simply brilliant, Kurt! Break a femur for me, honey!"

~X~x~X~

Once the final curtain call concluded, Kurt hustled back stage with his cast mates, all grinning and hugging and cheering. "Kurt, you positively killed that solo!" Garret exclaimed, clapping him on the back so that his knees buckled, threatening to let him down.

"Why, thank you, I thought so too, myself, but—You did positively great in the ensemble. Your reactions really added to the audience's understanding, and you _nailed_ that dance move!"

"Really?" Garret questioned, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Because I thought—Oh. No. Sweet Jesus, no…!"

"Garret?"

"Excuse me, Kurt…" Garret told him, mumbling something about the bathroom and rushing away in the opposite direction. A tawny eyebrow was cocked in the air as Kurt watched him leave; soon, he was approached by a man. He had graying hair, though it was quite clear he had tried to use Bosley and it had not worked out too well. His skin was fairly tight; wrinkles were not a problem for him. Piercing blue eyes acted as an x-ray machine as they scanned over Kurt; his hand was intertwined with another. This other man had a bright array of features, including emerald green eyes, graying auburn hair, and an assortment of scattered freckles.

A wave of sudden understanding surged through Kurt Hummel-Anderson.

"You must be Garret's dads."

The two simply nodded, the three of them acknowledging and understanding together.

~X~x~X~

Kurt stared at the two men's hands that were sitting on the table, intertwined in a tangle of fingers. He stared at them with envy, wishing that Blaine was sitting next to him with the same act of love, or maybe a hand on the thigh or simply a lovely gaze.

"And that's how Garret reacted. He was never home. He just… left. I never knew if he was going to come home… But, somehow, he got into musical theatre, and bam! He's here. I haven't… I haven't seen him in fifteen years." The eccentric ginger, whose name Kurt understood to be Devon, told him; his partner, Shane, simply listened, having heard this spiel before. "I don't think he ever came to accept it. I mean—how did _your_ dad take it when he found out?"

Kurt rested his hand on his chin, leaning against it as he thought. "He wasn't jumping up and down and squealing with glee." He told the two men. "But he accepted it. He's definitely learned to respect it, especially as I've gotten older and married. He positively adores our son, and he _loves_ me. That's—that's all that really matters."

The two men nodded, glancing at each other simultaneously.

"You know, fellas, there's never a late time to talk to him about it. We've certainly had our struggles, but that doesn't mean you have to as well. Why don't you just—y'know—talk to him. Reunite. It's never too late to simply _talk_. And, while he might not miraculously accept it and start waving rainbow flags wherever he goes, he might begin to understand. And understanding is the first step to closure."

The three men left the coffee shop, heading towards Kurt and Garret's hotel room in what would surely be a fiery conversation.

~X~x~X~

Kurt sat on his bed, rubbing his temples and wishing desperately that Blaine could be here; Blaine was much better than him at explaining situations and simply _listening_ to others; Kurt simply wanted to scream and possibly—probably—kick Garret in the head, stick his boot on the top of his head, and declare this land as acceptance for all kinds of people.

"Garret, just hear us out!" Shane explained, reaching for his hand as he attempted to calm their enraged son.

"No!" He cried, pacing around his side of the room, not evening glancing at Kurt. "You leave me alone for fifteen years, not evening _bothering_ to _try_ to contact me. You made me _fend_ for myself, dad. Don't even pretend like you didn't! And, what's this, you've got a _new_ guy hangin' around? Maybe that's why I was never home! Because you had someone new every night. Well, I bet, I bet you never stopped to even consider how I might feel about that, hmm? You call yourself a man."

Kurt silently exited the room, allowing the three to continue their discussion; he realized this could take a good portion of the evening and grabbed his bag, a pair of pajamas and all of the necessary toilet articles he might need in case he had to sleep over at Gerry's.

He knocked lightly on the door before opening the door; just as he did, he grabbed his vibrating cell phone.

_I never want to see your stupid, ugly, _homo_ face again, you got that, fag? I can't believe you talked to my dads. I thought you were better than that! How could you bring them to our room? If I wanted to talk to that damn man I would have done so on my own. Thanks for ruining my life. I never want to speak to you again._

Gerry beckoned him in, she herself grabbing her phone and opening it, her questioning face instantly turning serious. "Yes… Yes, I am his wife. Oh God… Yes…"

She exited the door before mouthing to Kurt, "It's about Joe."

~X~x~X~

**DUN DUN DUUUUNNN. So, school has started, and it's been pretty good—but not for writing. Sorry for the slow(er) updates, but here is the latest one. Oooh la la… can't wait! 19 days until Glee: Season 3, premiers. WHOOHOO! Sincerely~Victoria**


	12. Two Wrongs Don't Make a Right

_Kurt pressed the phone to his ear, his smile slowly rotating until a perfect frown sat on his face, way too comfortable for its own good. "He actually _said_ that?" He asked Lucille, his voice sinking into a low decrescendo; his eyebrows squelched together; he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, turning them a bright shade of crimson._

_ "And what's more," Lucille continued, "Is he says AJ misses you. It's almost unbearable. He doesn't understand why you _left_ them. Why you had to leave them behind."_

_ "Well—"Kurt murmured, plopping himself dejectedly in the center of his bed. "It's not like—I had a choice, Lucille, and Blaine said that I had to take every opportunity that approached me."_

_ "Well, maybe that was a gentle way of saying that he wants time away from you."_

_ The words were said, and yet they weren't felt. Kurt's eyes slanted towards the ground as he fully gripped what she had said, allowing the words to sink into his white skin; he almost tasted them, trying them on for size. _

_ He shook his head._

_ Blaine would never do that… Or would he?_

_ "Thanks for your time, Kurt, but I've got to be heading off, I have a bridge game planned with the girls. Have a _nice_ day."_

_ The phone line went dead, and so did a foolish part of Kurt._

~X~x~X~

_ "_Good morning to you, beautiful husband!" Blaine mumbled, sitting in a dazed, sleep-filled stupor; the alarm clock next to him read 4:38 AM, which meant it was approaching noon in Kurt's world.

"Hi." Kurt replied, biting his lip and shuffling his feet as he walked slowly, personally, down the sidewalk that was a couple of blocks from the hotel. "I… Your mother called me the other night, Blaine. Why didn't you just tell me?"

Blaine squelched his eyebrows together; their actions were a mixture of early-morning comprehension and actual confusion. "What… Hon, what _are_ you talking about?"

"Oh, don't even try to hide it!" Kurt exclaimed a little too loudly, his emotions rising with the pitch of his voice. "She told me, and don't you even _dare_ play dumb. I'm… I'm actually quite offended that you would even try such a thing."

"Kurt—"Blaine began, walking around their room as he attempted to wake himself up. "I honestly don't have a _clue_ about what you're—"

"Yes you do!" He cried, his face turning into a light pink balloon. "I think you understand _exactly_ what you've done. What you _don't_ understand is how much pressure this is. Do you _think_ I don't feel guilty about leaving you and AJ?"

"Guilty—Kurt, we both fully understand the intentions of your trip. It's not like you just wanted to go on a little pleasure trip without us. That would be a completely different story." His tone was nearly comatose.

"If you wanted some time away from me, you could have just told me. But no, this was just a _perfect_ excuse for you to get me off your back, hmm?"

Blaine let out a long sigh; it was scratchy through the telephone line; its other receiver was nearly leaking with tears as he tried to compose himself. "Listen, whatever my mother told you, don't listen to it, babe. I would like to think that you know me well enough to not believe her. We've been over this before."

Its receiver no longer wanted to hear what Blaine had to say; the line went dead, and so did a foolish part of Blaine.

~X~x~X~

_Two wrongs don't make a right_

_If I could do it all over again_

_You think you know yourself until you meet someone who hands you their own dictionary_

Blaine emitted a low groan as he sat on the couch, notebook in hand, mind struggling with possible titles for his book; he thought they were relating too closely to his current argument with Kurt. He hated how Kurt wasn't here; he couldn't apologize properly, and surely doing it through text or phone would seem like a low blow.

"Daddy B, what's wrong?" AJ emerged from his room, ambling sleepily out in his Hot Wheels pajamas. He crawled up onto the couch next to his father, staring up at him with those pale, blue-green eyes.

Blaine plastered a small smile on his face. "Daddy's having some trouble coming up with book titles, that's all."

"And it's an important decision to make, huh?"

"You've got that right, buddy." Blaine told him, tussling his curls. "Say, are you hungry? How about you go get the waffle maker and plug it in, and I'll be there in a sec."

"AWESOME!" AJ squealed, nearly flying towards the kitchen. Blaine shut his laptop, closing the lid and, temporarily, his problems.

~X~x~X~

"'Kay, say 'Cheese'!"

"Swiss!" AJ giggled, grinning toothily for the camera as he held a wine glass full of Sunny-D; below that were waffles that were the size of the plates themselves, topped with ice cream and cherries and peaches and blackberries. "Hey, Daddy B?" AJ asked through a bite of ala-mode waffle. "Can we send these pictures to Daddy K? I bet he'd like to get a big envelope in the mail of stuff for him!"

Blaine merely smiled, his curls flopping north and south as he nodded appreciatively.

~X~x~X~

"Daddy B, we got our Valentine's Day list today!" AJ announced as he situated himself in the backseat, pulling a list out of his backpack and handing it to his dad. "Those are all of my classmates. We get to pass Valentine's Day cards out to everyone in our class, Daddy B, and I want mine to be the coolest!"

"Well, I think we can do that." Blaine told him, grinning softly into the rear-view mirror. He set the list down on the passenger's seat, wishing that Kurt was there to read some of the more interesting names off of the list and ask what exactly the parents were on when the named their child; more importantly, he could point out the current trend that was issuing through the fabulous world of baby names. "But that means we're going to have to beat last year's cards."

"You mean, the one where it was a dragon and when you opened it hear-shaped confetti spewed out instead of fire?" AJ asked, his eyes growing round in anticipation. "But that's going to be hard! Those were AWESOME!"

"Yeah, and it was all your Daddy K's idea." Blaine reminded him. "You'll have to give him a call when we get home and ask if he has an even _better_ idea."

"Better than _that?"_ AJ asked skeptically, nearly rolling his eyes.

"I'm sure he can do it."

And if Blaine was sure of anything, it was the will and determination of his husband.

That will wasn't always a good thing, especially if he was stubborn while using it.

~X~x~X~

_Can I call you? I really need a mom to talk to right now. –Kurt_

In almost lightening speed, Kurt's phone was ringing, flashing Carol Hummel's lovely smile on the screen. Kurt graciously answered the call, and was soon explaining to his mother everything that his mother-in-law had told him.

"Honey, I don't mean to sound rash and unsupportive, but did you _ask_ Blaine if he said any of the things that she says he did?"

"Well, no, but—"Kurt began; instantly, he was cut off by motherly words of wisdom.

"Maybe he said those things, just not in that particular context." Carol suggested calmly. "It _is_ hard to be away from someone for a long time, _trust me_. When Finn's dad died—anyways, you might ask for his version of the story, honey."

"Yeah." Kurt muttered, nearly kicking himself for being so senseless. "It's just, I want him to know that every day I wake up and miss seeing him next to me. I miss AJ, oh God, mom, do I miss him terribly. I just don't want him thinking that I'm having the time of my life simply because I'm away from them." Hot, stinging tears were rolling down his face, and yet his voice was strangely level; it was almost fierce.

"And I'm sure if you explained that to him, he would understand."

Kurt nodded, his cheeks growing pink as his emotions swelled inside of him. "I'm sure they both miss you terribly. But—Kurt? You love him, right?"

"With everything." He nearly whispered, staring longingly at his beautiful portrait.

"Well, then, everything will come out alright. Love always conquers. Now, give him a call, sweetie, and let me know how it goes."

"Thanks, mom."

~X~x~X~

"Here yah go, kiddo." Blaine handed him his Blackberry, and soon the two were dialing Daddy K, waiting with anticipation for his uniquely lovely voice to sound.

And yet, it never did.

The two were greeted by his answering machine, and Blaine clung to every word, longing to hear his voice in the present, not a meager recording.

He was going to have to settle.

~X~x~X~

_Sorry, I couldn't answer, I was performing the matinee. Call me back, baby, I want to talk to you so bad, I'm almost aching with K_

AJ will call you.

~X~x~X~

"Well, August, that's a hard one. Hmmm… Maybe you could make a heart-shaped racecar and say… _I'm roarin' for yah!_ and you could have little heart-shaped air coming out of the exhaust pipe and your picture could be on one of them."

"Daddy B was right, you do have the _best_ ideas!" AJ squealed, handing the phone to his dad and running towards his room to start cutting and gluing and _glittering._

"Hello?"

"Blaine! Listen, I'm so sorry, I completely jumped the gun, and I… I was wr—"

"It's okay." Blaine concluded, running a hand through his chocolate curls. "I understand why you would feel that way. It's… You know my mother, I don't… I don't think she fully accepts it. And… Although I don't know the reasoning behind trying to get you angry with me, it worked. And I don't want it to work ever again, Kurt Hummel-Anderson. We are stronger than that."

"We _are_ strong." Kurt mumbled in agreement. "You are strong. I wish I could be as strong as you."

"I wish you were here right now," Blaine murmured in a soft, higher voice. "February just doesn't seem the same without you. I… I was going through our closet today and found all of your heart sweaters. And I actually wore one today."

"You _wore_ one of my Louis Vuitton sweaters?" Kurt asked in nearly a B sharp.

"Yes. And I had a damn good time doing it."

"Well, Blaine Hummel-Anderson, it's a good thing I love you so much."

"Hey, don't act like I haven't been wondering where my Yale hoodie is. You know I wear that on all the cold day s when I just want to be comfortable. It's _mysteriously_ disappeared, and I haven't been able to find it. I've looked simply _everywhere_, Kurt Hummel-Anderson."

"I've simply no idea what you're talking about." He replied stubbornly, stuffing one of his hands into the Yale hoodie he had on.

"Say, were you actually going to _admit_ you were wrong? When you called me?"

"I've simply no idea what you're talking about." Kurt repeated, grinning maliciously. "I think you're getting too old, mister, and are beginning to lose your gorgeous mind."

~X~x~X~

"Kurt, Jacob delivered this to me with the rest of the mail." Gerry told him, watching as Kurt entered her room with his swimming attire on, ready to relax in the complementary steam room. "I think he knows that you've been spending most of your free time here, since you and Garret aren't exactly on speaking terms. And I haven't a single idea what it could be, it's so _heavy_."

"Oh my God give me that!" Kurt cried out, abandoning his towel as he threw it to the ground, rushing towards Gerry and grabbing the envelope. He sat next to her on her bed, retrieving a good hundred pictures from the envelope as well as a copy of Two_ Wrongs Don't Make a Right_ by Blaine Hummel-Anderson.

The tears for the next half-hour were overflowing from the two people, as they laughed over pictures, swapped stories, and read excerpts from the new book.

It was almost home for Kurt, if you weren't including the two people that made up his life.

And most people, when examining Kurt Hummel-Anderson, _did_ include those people. Because, without them, you simply wouldn't have Kurt Hummel-Anderson.

~X~x~X~

**Yeesh. I'm glad they got everything sorted out. (; More to come! Thanks for reading the newest update, and I hope that this had enough ****Blaine and AJ**** as previously requested. :3 I do really appreciate your lovely comments and take them to heart; I try to give the people what they want! :3 Anyways, thank you for reading, and thank you for making this story, currently, a success. You're my inspiration to continuing writing. Sincerely, Victoria**


	13. You Simply Scored

Blaine emerged from the den, his eyes growing larger by the second as he pressed the phone closer to his ear, wanting to hear every word to this beautiful, _unbelievable_ conversation.

"You just can't even be serious! How the hell did you get so lucky? Can I come visit you so I can come as well?"

"No, no, no, mister, this is _my_ thing!" Kurt laughed, nearly jumping with the adrenaline rush that the news had brought him.

"Honestly, though, how did you _manage_ to get into London's Fashion Week? Especially in seats better than those of the paparazzi!" Blaine asked, his voice soaring into his more delicate range from pure envious and loving feelings.

"I have my ways, Blaine Hummel-Anderson."

"That's all you have for me?"

Suddenly, the line was being jostled, as if a huge, dumb oaf of a comic strip monster was grabbing it and waving it back and forth. And then a familiar female's voice sounded, causing Blaine's smile to nearly erupt off his face.

"Honestly, Blaine, I've no idea how he scored them, nor how he scored _two_."

"Two?" Blaine cried, clutching at his heart and sitting down slowly, as if to calm himself. "But—_how? _Honestly, Gerry?"

"Like I said, he won't say—"

"If you were here, dear husband, I'd ask only a thousand kisses for a pay and I'd be happy to tell yo—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, he's not here, mister, so don't even tempt hi—"

"But if he were—"Kurt whined in the background, and Blaine found himself laughing softly, simply shaking his head at his silly, _damn lucky_ husband. "Kurt, I've seemed to have missed the biggest question. I would have thought this would have been your top priority."

"What?" He asked, his attention focused solely on the beautiful caller in New York.

"What are you going to wear to this high fashion event?"

"Oh, God, Blaine, I haven't even—Is this payback? Asking me, only to get me into hysterics, and possibly even _sorry_ for you that you don't get to—God, mister, you have some gull to even ask!"

_~X~x~X~_

The whole day was spent downtown.

Buildings of stone-washed attire were nestled nicely against a brilliantly blue sky. People of all ages, shapes, and sizes filled the bustling streets; many were in overcoats, some even sported top hats and canes. Fire engine red trolleys filled the streets, guiding many on their way into the city, or possibly taking them far away from their current location. It was _beautiful_. It was London.

"Kurt, I don't think you've got enough bags. Do you _honestly_ think that you're going to have enough room in your suitcase?"

"Sweetie, if there's one thing I've learned, it's that you can always buy another suitcase. Fashion is fashion, and I'm not allowing either of us to attend Fashion Week looking like a bag of scum. Now—onward!" Four or five bags hung off of each of Kurt's arms, jostling themselves together and bearing different designer names. He grinned at Gerry and the two hooked arms, enjoying the beautiful March Sunday, one of their few days off, to simply catch up and have a good time. "Oh my goodness, Gerry, _look!_"

Kurt pressed himself to a storefront, not unlike a little kid sticking his nose to a candy store window, and simply _ogled_. "I can SO see AJ in that Armani Jr jacket! Do you think he would like it? Oh, and Blaine—God, he would look simply _fabulous_ in _that!_" He pointed to a manican, which was dressed in a grey v-neck sweater. "And you could simply layer a crimson collared shirt underneath of that, and it would really bring out his eyes! If you wanted to go with the new _edgy_ trend, I suppose you could pair that with a teal tie, and you co—"

"Kurt, go, you know the drill. I'll wait outside. Gimme the bags and I'll wait."

He nearly threw himself at the door, a stealthy look doing quite the jig on his face.

When he emerged nearly three hours later, he had gained another four bags. Gerry's face grew into a mixture of apprehension and glee; she opened her mouth and prepared herself to emit what would certainly be one of the greatest 'Oh Snaps' in history.

"Uh, no, no, no, I am not going to have you tell me that I bought too much, because I _did_ help you with your Walmart sock addiction and that road of recovery, missy, was _way_ too long for my liking. It's quite obvious that the sock—"

"Is the foundation to what will be a good outfit, I know, Kurt. I was simply going to ask if you would like help packaging them and sending them off to the states? You're going to have two very excited boys back home."

Suddenly, it was as if the brightness filter of Kurt's face was raised to its highest level; he grinned, gave a little squeak that presumably only pooches could hear, and hugged his best friend, nearly toppling the two over with the weight of his excitement and extensive shopping bags.

_~X~x~X~_

"Look at this, Gerry, come quick!"

High heels could be heard clanking quickly, rushing at a near-run to where Kurt was seated with his computer. "_God¸_ does he look good!"

"Oooooh, what does it say?" Gerry squealed, staring at the article; she read along as Kurt read aloud; there was a nice color picture of him posing with his new book in their den, wearing the new Armani sweater and accessories that Kurt had picked out for him; it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

_Two Wrongs Don't Make a Right_

_ By: Blaine-Hummel-Anderson_

_ It would seem to many that a story about a whiny, desperate girl who's addicted to harmful drugs—and an equally harmful man—would be just another teenage fiction novel that would be loved by those who listen to pot music in their basements while dying their clothes Rasta colors._

_ However, Blaine Hummel-Anderson gives us another take on this scenario with his second novel, _Two Wrongs Don't Make a Right_. Set in the early seventies, Margaret Soyer joins the enticing bandwagon that includes dangerous chemicals and a surge of Zen. As she explores many avenues of this exciting craze, she meets Dylan Cronize, a political candidate who cares as much about his campaigning as his drug-dealing. Throughout the novel, Margaret begins to realize that Dylan is preaching things she believes in, but not following through with them. He indirectly teaches her things about herself that she never knew, and in the end shapes her to become a better woman. _

Two Wrongs Don't Make a Right_ hits bookstands on April 1__st__._

_ Dearest—_

_ Tell Gerry that I've sent her a copy of the book in the post. Thank you a MILLION for the new threads (AJ comes home with the strangest vocabulary for a second grader!)—I think they are lovely, and AJ looks positively adorable._

_ Are you getting pumped for fashion week? I'm completely enveloped in jealously._

_ Love,_

_ Blaine_

_ PS: I'd gladly give you a million kisses if you'd just _tell_ me how you got them…_

"That is so cool, Kurt!" Gerry exclaimed, sitting next to Kurt as she placed her hands on his shoulders. "You should be so proud!"

His face was pale; his cheeks screamed with an instant rush of color; his eyes were leaking, though just barely, as if someone had turned the faucet _almost_ all the way off.

It was perfect.

_~X~x~X~_

"And you're sure we have to get ready so early?" Gerry asked apprehensively, her round eyes questing Kurt.

"Of course, Gerry." He replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You can't just show up to Fashion Week five minutes before and expect to be guided to your seats. These people are rough. They're animals. And if they see open seats, it's like raw meat to them. They'll grab them, and they'll chew them, and they'll shake them around in their mouth simply to show off."

"_Really?"_

"Yes. Now, let's go, we _only_ have five hours to get ready!"

The _Wicked_ CD rang through the room as the two friends stood in the bathroom, adjusting hair and makeup and grinning mischievously at the mirror. "I can't believe that you're playing Glinda! Well, no, sweetie, I'm sorry, I can, you're amazing! But honestly—isn't that _amazing?_ You're going to knock them all dead!"

Gerry simply grinned into the mirror at her best friend, her white teeth reflecting nicely with her maroon lipstick. "Thanks, Kurt. You're going to _murder_ them as Fierro!"

"I'm just excited that we have acting time together on stage!" Kurt gushed, fixing his hair with yet another wave of hairspray. "And it gives me a time to work on my muscles, since Fierro is supposed to be what they call buff chique."

"I bet Blaine will find it quite attractive."

"You read my mind, darling."

_~X~x~X~_

The two entered the lobby, and it seemed as though every pair of eyes were magnetically attracted to them. Kurt simply grinned and began to flaunt his stuff; his tweed suit fit him quite lovely; the white undershirt fit him snug, accented by his peacock feather of a tie and teal pocket handkerchief. Gerry strolled through the doors in a dress that was split down the middle; one side was dark grey, the other black; bright red heels were adorned to her pale, sleek legs; a maroon sat atop her deep brunette hair, which was slicked beautifully into a high bun.

Kurt suddenly stopped as he saw two lesser-dressed patrons entering the hotel, and rushed back inside, grabbing their shirt collars.

"Um, what do you think you're doing?"

"Kurt, hi!" Shane exclaimed, clapping him on the back and grinning up at him. "We're going to go try and talk to Garret again, he seemed pretty upset by our unannounced arrival, and we thought—well, I did—that it would be best to let him cool off for a few days and return with an offering of peace."

"Well, that's all fine and dandy, fellows, but I can't allow you to do that."

"What are you talking about?" Devon asked, stepping in front of his partner protectively, his chest raised nearly to his chin as he stared down his freckly nose at Kurt. "We have the pleasure to do whatever we feel like."

"Yes, and he understands that, _dear_, but let's just hear him out."

"I just—"Kurt started, stuffing his hands into his pockets and biting his lip. "I care about your son, I do. Even when we're at disagreements. And I don't think right now would be the best time to have your little reunion offering. How about you start off smaller, and work your way up? A phone call and some coffee, maybe? Anything. But give it time, please. I… I do care about him. Now—Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get going."

_~X~x~X~_

"That was simply _amazing!"_ Gerry squealed as she and Kurt exited the fashion show, grinning from ear to ear and speaking in their best British accents.

"It was simply marvelous!" Kurt agreed, squeezing her hand. "I'm so sending these pictures to Blaine. Maybe—if I'm lucky—AJ will gain an interest in fashion and we'll have something to talk about _besides_ the lovely intricacies of action fingers and ant farms and mud puddles."

Gerry simply tilted her head back and let rip a huge giggle.

The evening continued in the same manner.

_~X~x~X~_

"Gerry, will you take my picture next to the _Wicked_ poster? I want to send this to my Elpheba."

With a giggle and a flash, the picture was snapped, and the two ran backstage to get into costume and makeup for their first production of _Wicked_ in Paris, France.

_~X~x~X~_

The curtain fell, and yet there was a huge uproar from the audience; it seeped through the current and soaked the sweaty, adrenaline-filled actors. Gerry and Kurt ran together in a huge hug, giggling and _crying_ and simply enjoying the aura that filled the backstage area, accompanied by a sense of pride. Garret even ambled over, mumbling a few nice words to Kurt and hugging Gerry, pecking her softly on the cheek in congratulations.

"Well, that was—"Gerry stopped, mid-sentence.

"Sweetie?" Kurt asked, his pink face turning towards her.

And suddenly it was clear.

"Where the _hell_ is your leg? And your finger? Oh, _Joe!" _She cried, her eyes growing wide with excitement at the shock of seeing her husband there.

Kurt simply caught her as she passed out.

_~X~x~X~_

**Oooooh. (: A little Kurt and Gerry best friend action goin' on… another update. **

**Sincerely, Victoria**


	14. Breaking Barriers

"That color yellow doesn't match the tweed plaid."

"Yeah, thank you for your valuable opinion, Garret, but I'd like to think I can match colors and patterns according to _Vogue's_ newest trends alright by myself, thank you." Kurt's eyes rotated 365 degrees as he grabbed his bag, ready for a day out on the town with Gerry and Joe. "Besides, I thought we weren't on speaking terms."

Garret bit his lower lip, suddenly opening his mouth as if to say something.

He closed it with a near deafening roar.

"We aren't." And Garret exited the room.

_~X~x~X~_

"Merci," Kurt finished, handing the waiter the three menus and watching as he walked away. He turned back to his friends and was greeted by amazed eyes.

"That's Kurt for you." Gerry exclaimed proudly, resting her head on Joe's shoulder and squeezing his hand, which was placed gingerly on the tabletop. "I wouldn't be surprised if he could fluently speak Latin."

Kurt glanced down at the two hands and back up at the two faces; each seemed equally blissful, as if they were falling in love all over again.

It was beautiful.

It was pure.

It was something that Kurt could see and _feel_, simply because he knew what it felt like to have someone near to you that was valued above anyone else.

He also knew what it was like to be away from someone who seemingly completed the part of you that, without them, was just barren land. It was as if Kurt was a spare tire. He was functioning, and he was useful, and he had a purpose.

But he was replaceable.

He wasn't the best quality.

He was a last resort option.

A small smile filled his porcelain features as he responded to the amount of affection that was in the atmosphere.

This was _his_ chance of a lifetime.

He was going to experience everything he possibly could, because it's a shame when you're offered an opportunity and can't go, but even more of a shame if you go and don't take advantage of it.

"Ici, vous allez, monsieur. Deux escargots."

A plate of escargot was placed in front of Kurt.

A huge smile fell onto his face, and soon he was slurping and cracking and _ew_ing and smiling for countless photos.

It was exactly as it should be.

_~X~x~X~_

Kurt simply stood in the door frame, watching as Gerry lifted Joe into bed; she saw no struggle. Joe, on the other hand, had his eyes scrunched together tightly as if he was in a fatal amount of pain. His fists were similar, clenched together, the lock secured and the key thrown away. "Gerry, I can do it." He muttered lamely, acting much like a bug that had been turned onto its back; his remaining limbs were flailing around as he struggled in her arms.

"Honey, the doctor said I had to do this until they install your prosthetic." She replied in a hefty sigh; she placed him on the bed and began to pull the covers over him. "Besides, I haven't seen you in a good eight months, and I'd like to do whatever I can to get physically close to you." Her brunette eyebrows lifted mischievously, and she leaned into him. His head tilted back slightly as the two simply relished in the feeling of being together, together and _alive_.

Kurt cleared his throat softly, and Gerry sprang up, smiling apologetically at him.

"No, stay." Kurt instructed, pointing at Joe and winking stealthily. "I should probably go over my lines, anyways. Have a good night, you two."

Closing the door softly, Kurt struggled to think of what to do. His best friend was clearly occupied with her husband. _As she should be_, Kurt told himself, knowing that if Blaine were here he'd surely be spending as much free time with him as possible. _Besides, you have Gerry nearly all day and with every performance._ He nodded to himself as if physically reassuring himself, before he was pulled into a room, his eyes covered by mysterious hands.

"Don't make a sound." A deep, husky voice whispered in his ear.

Kurt's first reaction was to make as much noise as he dared.

"We've prepared a hefty amount of green elixir, mister, and we believe it's time you drank up."

His next reaction was to laugh out loud.

He was spun around, and was facing his fellow male actors; the culprit removed his hands and grinned at him widely. "Jared, what the—you couldn't call me and tell me about this little shindig instead of mugging me?"

"Nope." He replied simply; Kurt watched as he received a wad of cash from one of the guys. At his questioning glance, he replied, "It was a bet. Thom said that you would scream and flail around and bite me when we pulled you in here. I said no way, because I know my buddy Kurt way better than that." Jared clapped him hard on the shoulder, pushing him towards a table with different French beers and a huge _cauldron_ of green liquid. "Now, c'mon, drink up! The night is young—we're in _Paris, France_—Let's live it up! Viva la France!"

Everyone grabbed a container of sinful magic and, with a toast, began to drink to the evening that was just beginning.

_~X~x~X~_

As soon as Kurt's eyes opened, he knew it was going to be a rough day.

A huge groan escaped him; it filled his being as it escaped through his mouth, filling the whole room. His dazed, blue-green eyes were glued to the ceiling fan, watching with mere awe as the blades rotated in a near flash. Kurt moved an arm the weight of lead towards his skull—it pounded and shook as if it was a mini volcano, preparing itself to explode; his hair was the only protection he had from his seemingly vibrating head. Soon, he was beginning to realize his surroundings; he was in Garret's bed, and Garret was in his. His eyes expanded to the size of dinner plates as he began to face the undeniable truth: he hadn't a single memory of the previous evening.

His body was a rocking chair; he creaked and groaned as he ambled slowly, carefully, to the bathroom; upon entering, he stared at his face, which was painted in an assortment of colors with various sentences smeared across his skin.

_Viva la France!_

_ Have another drink of green elixir!_

_ Kurt Hummel-Anderson is completely straight._

His shower was a rainbow of colors as he washed the paint off, trying to embrace the approaching day.

However, there was never the perfect outfit that would suit a day that would go less than perfect.

If there was, Kurt would seemingly own it.

_~X~x~X~_

"So, have you talked to your husband lately?" Garret asked randomly as the two were going over lines together.

"Have you talked to your fathers lately?" Kurt responded, his eyes scanning his script.

"Touché."

"I thought so."

_~X~x~X~_

The show was going seemingly perfect, and Kurt couldn't be more astonished at the pure _magic_ they were performing. The dancers were leaping and gliding across the stage; the chorus held the same pitch and perfected their separate harmonies; Gerry had no voice, it was more like the voice had Gerry—she was so into her role that the notes effortlessly escaped her mouth, flowing through the air and touching every single individual in the audience.

Until Kurt fell.

Until he applied weight to his right ankle and nearly howled in pain.

Until Garret had to dance over to him and help him up, supporting him with him as Kurt faked the choreography he had never learned.

Until the two were on speaking terms again.

_~X~x~X~_

"But I've never fallen on stage!" Kurt protested as the doctor showed him the x-ray with a disgruntled sigh.

"I'd say you're simply lucky that Garret here was able to help you up. If you would have put any more pressure on it, Mr. Hummel-Anderson, you would have fractured many other serious bones that could have led to a longer recovery."

"Kurt, he's not saying you have to be happy about it, hell, none of us would be." Garret told him, patting his hand on top of Kurt's pale one. "You just need to focus on recovering—and fast, because that understudy is _good_, but no one could replace you." Garret stared at the floor as he said this, though Kurt genuinely believed him.

It was undecided to the upset brunette whether this was a good thing or not.

_~X~x~X~_

"Hello?"

"Um—who is this? Where's Kurt?"

"Oh, uh, hi… this is Garret. Kurt's roommate."

"I see." Blaine replied, clucking his tongue disapprovingly. "And why isn't my husband answering the phone?"

"He, uh—he broke his ankle."

"He _what? _How?"

Garret then began to explain how Kurt had fallen, and how the two had been rushed to the ER as soon as their understudies had begun to fill in for them in the middle of the show.

"…And he feels really embarrassed about it and was really angry and then he was crying and then he fell asleep from the medication. They're going to do surgery tonight in order to piece back a few of the minor bone chips; as for the break, they're going to put him in a cast and a three week suspension from the show."  
>"I… I don't know what to say. Can I talk to him?" Blaine asked quietly, tussling AJ's curls; his son was sitting in his lap, listening with scared eyes to the adult conversation.<p>

"He's asleep, so no." Garret told him, stuffing his hands into his denim pockets and scuffing his shoes against the hospital tile. "But if he wakes up, I'll—"

"I understand." Blaine sighed, interrupting him. "Just have him call when he can, alright? Tell him that it doesn't matter how expensive overseas calls are, I _need_ to talk to him."

Garret nodded, more to himself than anyone, and then said, "I do respect you. I may not appreciate it or like it, but I do respect you."

And then the line went dead.

_~X~x~X~_

**Short little update. :P Oh well, I suppose… I thought it was important to end it in this fashion. Another new update. :3 Sincerely, Victoria**


	15. Let Me Be The One

The foggy atmosphere was filled with a drone, a high whine, and the air seemed to vibrate with it. It consumed the room and the living things in it. No one was safe.

Nor did anyone want to be.

Suddenly, the noise turned into words, as if someone had turned the big switch of comprehension in your mind to the 'on' position.

As soon as the lyrics appeared in the sky, the background seeped into the ground; luscious green grass was backed against a sea of white; the words were made transparent, and yet Blaine understood without seeing.

_Let me be the one who calls you baby all the time._

"Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed suddenly as he appeared; his skin was irritated and splotchy, as if it had been severely tye-dyed, or scorched.

And yet he seemed completely at ease with the world.

His eyes opened with wide innocence.

He simply stared into Blaine's eyes.

Everything was as it should be.

A playful smile danced around Kurt's pure face, and he opened his lips.

Yet nothing came out.

His hand flew to his lips; wide eyes transformed on his canvas of a face—the artist had painted an angel in distress.

_"Surely, you can take some comfort knowing that you're mine."_

The lyrics burst out of Blaine's mouth as he kneeled next to Kurt, cupping his head in his hands and simply inhaling, wanting to capture the beautiful, enticing aroma that was exiting Kurt in waves.

_"Just hold me tight."_

The next phrase of lyrics carved themselves onto Kurt's forearm. This was an extremely ordinary event; Blaine read the request and obeyed, lifting Kurt's head onto his lap, smiling down at him.

And then everything was moving; the two were tectonic plates, simply shifting alongside each other.

Bright light scorched their eyes, and yet it didn't hurt.

Nothing hurt.

They had been relocated to an island cabana; they were entangled in bare sheets, their limbs seemingly connected.

"_Lay by my side."_

Unearthly shades of gold and silver bounced off of Kurt's luminous exterior; his eyes opened, and he seemed genuinely surprised to see his partner.

"Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever."

Even as Kurt said the words, he didn't. They simply registered in Blaine's mind; it was as simple to recall what Kurt had just said as if someone had asked him to recite the alphabet.

And yet the song continued.

"_And let me be the one who calls you baby all the time."_

A simple nod was all Blaine needed; he pressed his face against Kurt's tummy, marveling at the tinged skin, and began to pepper it with tiny kisses.

"_I've found my place in the world—could stare at your face for the rest of my days."_

Yet in this land, there were no days. There was simply the present, and it was being lived by those who expected no tomorrow.

Blaine pressed a single kiss to Kurt's blue lips, and suddenly he exploded with, "_Now I can breath. Turn my insides out and smother me."_

Kurt returned with a soft peck to the lips; he sucked in a deep breath, marveling at this sudden ability to speak and be heard.

"_Warm and alive I'm all over you—would you smother me?"_

Suddenly, the lyrics became literal; Kurt threw himself on top of Blaine, and the two simply existed together, as two separate layers, but still one.

And soon, Blaine was being smothered.

But he didn't care.

He was with Kurt.

_~X~x~X~_

"Daddy B, Daddy B, wake up!"

Blaine was curled into a crooked ball, holding his scrunched up blankets against him; a peaceful expression was rearranging his features like a florist expertly arranging a bouquet. "Come on, Daddy B, it's April Fool's Day, you old fool! March went out like a lion—ROAR!" AJ grabbed his daddy's shoulders and pulled them up, only to watch as they fell towards the mattress. His feet temporarily defied gravity as he jumped up and down, grinning toothily as his curls flopped around him.

"No, just five more minutes, Daddy B was having a good dream…"

"What was it about?" AJ asked, jumping one final time before falling flat onto his butt; Blaine gave a little 'oof', his face in a permanent smooch face as he smeared his scratchy cheeks against his pillow. "C'mon, what was your dream about?" AJ persisted, trying to open Blaine's eyelids; he did, and a naked eyeball greeted him. "Was it about… frogs? Or… dirt bikes? Or dogs? I love dogs! Oh, I know, Daddy B! It was about Daddy K!"

"Yep."

"_Ew!_ Were you… _kissing?_" AJ waited with baited breath.

"Yep."

"EW! That's _gross_!" AJ exclaimed, watching as Blaine pushed himself up, rubbing sleep from his eyes with his knuckles. "My dream was AWESOME! Wanna hear about it, Daddy B? Huh?"

Blaine pulled a sheet over his bare chest, examining the portrait of the three Hummel-Andersons that they had had taken before Kurt's departure eight and a half months ago. "Sure thing, little man." He told his son, watching him with amused look. "I'd like nothing better."

_~X~x~X~_

"Wow, that's fantastic! Mmhmm… and interview… Sunday at ten, sounds wonderful. Thanks so much." Blaine ended the call and instantly called another. "Carol, hey, it's Blaine. How are you?"

"Great, thank you, Blaine. And how are you? Are you and AJ still hanging in there?"

Blaine felt a smile creep onto his face as he continued lunch preparation. "No, AJ's been going downhill lately. I—I didn't want to say anything to alarm you, but—"

"Blaine, what's going on?" Carol asked in a low, alarmed voice.

"April Fools!" Blaine announced; AJ squealed with delighted laughter, giving his father a thumbs up.

"Oh, Blaine!" Carol exclaimed, a bright chuckle escaping her. "You really had me going there for a second."

"It was AJ's idea."

"Sure. So, in all seriousness, how are you?"

"Oh you know… we're hanging in there. Kurt's been really distraught with his injury, and I haven't heard his voice in almost a week since long distance calls are so expensive. We've been emailing back and forth, though, and—"

"Blaine," Carol interrupted softly, personally. "How are _you?_ And be honest."

And Blaine began to open up; he was a cocoon, being cracked and exposed by all of the problems and stresses that came with having a job and child at the same time. He was able to express thoughts that he hadn't already accumulated, simply because he was speaking to a _real_ mother figure, someone he could _trust_, someone who trusted him simply because he was _him_.

Acceptance was a beautiful thing—and Blaine was finally beginning to receive it from the one person he could call mom.

_~X~x~X~_

"Daddy B, are you going to call Daddy K's friend April Rhodes and call her a fool?"

"Yes, I think she would appreciate that, don't you?"

"No way!" AJ cried, his head tilting back with laughter. "Say, what's for lunch?"

Blaine leapt from his seat in a sudden thoughts; soon, he placed a bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of his son, handing him a spoon and pulling out his phone; the red dot on the screen began blinking, and soon he was capturing AJ's priceless reaction.

AJ dug his spoon into his soup, not unlike an archaeologist digging for fossils, and brought it to his mouth.

Soon, it was escaping, landing with a surge of saliva into the bowl.

"YUCK, Daddy B, it's cold! Ew, it's _COLD_!"

"April Fools, you fool!"

_~X~x~X~_

"Thanks so much for taking AJ for the day. I have an interview at ten, a podcast at 1:30 PM, and then a signing at four." Blaine explained to Burt as he stood in the doorway, looking particularly handsome in his auburn suit; one of Carol's legendary Snickerdoodle's resided in each man's hands.

"We couldn't be more proud of you." Burt told him, clapping him on the shoulder and embracing him in a half hug. "And Blaine? Tell Kurt hello for us next time you talk to him, will ya?"

Blaine simply smiled, exposing all of his pearly whites in a smile that touched his olive green eyes. "Of course."

_~X~x~X~_

"AJ, you ever play football?" Burt asked his grandson as he devoured his fourth cookie.

"A little bit." AJ managed to reply, cookie crumbles spewing from his mouth; a boyish grin—mixed with an apologetic smirk—filled his bright, youthful face.

"Well, Kurt was on the high school team his sophomore year. Then he was a cheerleader. But I'll tell you what, nothing made me more proud than when I watched him win that game for us with a single field goal."

"Grandpa, can we go throw the ball around?"

Burt's aged face filled with youth, and soon he was showing the second generation the game of football—which, as Burt had learned from Kurt, was only fun if you played by your own rule book. He soon found himself humming '_Single Ladies'_, and simply shook his head.

_~X~x~X~_

"Blaine Hummel-Anderson, it's simply a pleasure to meet you. I am your _biggest_ fan, and—"

"Sandy?"

"Sweet Jesus, he knows my name!" Sandy gasped, waving a hand in front of his temple in an attempt to calm himself. "How did you—?"

"You know my husband, Kurt Hummel. He was in new Directions after you, well…"

My path was simply paved in a _new direction_, Mr. Hummel-Anderson." He tightened his teal sweatshirt around his neck, grinning at him with a smile that was nearly as bright as his yellow sweat suit. "Let's get back to you, handsome. You're lovelier in person than on that book jacket. I was telling Mr. Tubbs—that's my long hair tortoise shell—that you were nice on your books and internet fandom sites, but even more gorgeous in person. So—"He grabbed both of his hands and held them between his own. "How's 'bout it?"

"An autograph? Of course, anything for a fan."

Though Sandy didn't seem keen on receiving _just_ an autograph. He was soon leaning towards Blaine, closing the distance gab between them—

"I just wanted a kiss!" Sandy cried as he struggled against the security guards.

_~X~x~X~_

You'll never believe who I ran into today.

_Hint?_

They were whisked away by body guards.

_Puckerman?_

LOL no. Sandy. Show-choir perv Sandy.

_The __Pink _Dagger_?_

Yep. He tried to _kiss_ me.

_Nuh-uh? :-0_

Don't worry, I wouldn't let it happen.

_Better not, mister. Miss you terribly. 3_

_~X~x~X~_

"Really, please don't hesitate to bring AJ over whenever you need to. Even if it's just to have some time to yourself."

"Thanks Carol. And Burt. I'll keep that in mind." When hugs and kisses were exchanged, it was time to say goodnight.

On the ride back to New York, Blaine was informed of all the adventures AJ had experienced while at Grandma and Grandpa Hummel's house.

And Blaine realized that he was not only lucky to have a great husband, but a great mother and father-in-law.

_~X~x~X~_

**Yay, some Blaine and Hummel family action =3 bahh, anyways, another update. :D**


	16. Accidentally on Purpose

_It's May 1__st__. You know what that means, right?_

That it's May Day…?

_No! Guess who gets to be on stage after an agonizing three weeks? Three weeks that have been spent crutching around France and Switzerland with one hand to snap pictures and the other to grab a crutch and occasionally smack Garret?_

Hmm… Rachel Hudson? :D Just kidding, babe, let me guess, it's you?

Blaine's pants began vibrating, and soon he was pulling out his phone, his face instantly illuminating with a smile at the flash of Kurt's face on the tiny screen.

"Happy May Day, pssh, is that the best you could come up with?"

"Kurt," Blaine breathed, simply reveling in the way his lips formed around the name; it was familiar and comfortable and warm. He had missed saying it, let alone hearing it aloud. It was lovely.

"Yep, you've got that right, mister. It's exactly two months away until I get to see you again!" Kurt replied, hugging the phone close to his ear as he examined how the foreign designer pants fit him; with a satisfied sigh, he added them to the numerous hangers that were mentally labeled, 'buy'. "So, your latest letter tells me you're a proud parent of a cub scout. Do you even _know_ how attractive that is?"

"Kurt Hummel-Anderson, I wouldn't have took you for the type to have a smutty scout fetish." Blaine told him as he closed his bedroom door, secluding himself to his room as he laid on his cool mattress.

"Well, don't tell anyone." Kurt replied, and it was impossible not to hear the eye roll in his tenor voice. "For all I know, it could be circulating through the cast and crew again."

"You'll be pleased to know that one of the badges that AJ could earn involves a bit of sewing. But—"Blaine finished quickly, picturing his husband's eyebrows rising high into his hairline with a mixture of excitement and glee. "It's just a few simple techniques to sew on buttons; you could but almost any seamstress to shame."

"Mmmhmm." Kurt grinned, knowing it was true; he dashed out of the German store, pleased with his latest purchases.

"So, are you excited to be able to perform again? You do still remember the choreography, I presume?"

"Blaine, do you _know_ who you're talking to?" Kurt grinned, quickly checking through his mind the rounds of choreography he had etched into it during his hours of countless free time. "_Yes_, I do. Gerry's helped me when she's been free, but she's been with Joe most of the time, so I've had to resort to my favorite roommate."

"And how's that been going?"

"Eh, it could have been worse. He's started speaking to me again—yes, in full sentences, I know, we've graduated from the grunts and pantomimes; I couldn't be more proud of him."

Blaine found it quite hard to hide his approaching snicker. "Well, you're patient, and you've given him more than his fair share of time to get over himself. It looks like it's beginning to pay off."

Kurt nodded and pushed open the hotel door, nodding his head slightly at the concierge and continuing to make his way up to his room; a light, airy conversation continued between the two, ranging anywhere from how the other was doing to what AJ had been up to with soccer to the latest scandal of the second grade – third grade love/ hate relationship. "Well, darling, I should be going, I should probably shower and prepare for today's matinee. Have a good supper out with my favorite second grader in the whole wide world. Yep, love you too, so much, so terribly much. Bye."

"Kurt?"

He had his hotel door halfway open when he heard his name called. Turning around, he spotted Gerry; her face was a blob of sadness and confusion and a strange sense of happiness. "Darling?" Kurt asked, setting his bags and personal items inside the door before shutting it. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just… Come with me, please." She approached him and grabbed his hand; hers was sweaty and warm against his, and she was biting her lip in what was an uncharacteristic nervous habit.

"Gerry, is everything alright-? _Oh._"

He stared down at it, and yet he didn't.

He understood, and yet he didn't.

He wasn't sure of anything, let alone how it had happened.

"Have you told him?"

"I—no, not yet, but I want you to be there with me when I do, Kurt. I… I need your support, and I know you'll always be honest with me."

"Of course, Gerry." Kurt replied fiercely, squeezing her hand as she opened the door.

Joe's face was a candle that had just been struck with a match when he saw Gerry. His eyes switched from her face to Kurt's, and back again a few times. "Hello Kurt, it's nice to see you up and walkin'. Good Lord knows I'd die to do that."

"Joe, don't _say_ that." Gerry muttered instinctively, her grip on Kurt's hand tightening; her foot began to do a jig to some unknown music as it tapped the carpet.

"Well, dear, I'm just sayin'." Joe replied, his eyes shifting southward. "Sorry, Kurt, I hope you know what I meant."

"Of course, Joe—"

"Joe, I'm pregnant."

The silence that followed these words was crisp, clean. It was almost planned. It was_ almost_ stereotypical.

And then a contagious smile broke out on Joe's face, filling his milky white complexion with an almost iridescent glow. His hands opened wide, motioning with fluid movements for Gerry to come to him; she let go of Kurt's hand, and he felt strangely like a parent who was giving away his first born.

"Gerry, _Oh Gerry_." Joe exclaimed, exposing her tummy as he put his hand against it, smiling with almost a sense of shock. "This is lovely. This is beautiful. You're beautiful! Oh—Oh my God, Gerry, I'm going to be—I'm going to be a… a dad! _I'm going to be a dad!" _He nearly yelled. "Oh, get your behind over here Kurt, this is a celebration!"

Gerry's hand covered Joe's; her wedding ring contrasted against his four-fingered hand—and yet it didn't matter that he no longer had a ring finger or a vital limb. He was perfect just the way he was—he was perfect for Gerry, and perfect for their new life that was spreading out before them.

_~X~x~X~_

"You have to."

"But—"

"No buts, you have to. You can't just go the last two weeks without him knowing."

"But—"

"Honestly, do you _understand_ the 'no buts' rule? Come on, Gerry, just tell him."

"Will you come with me?"

A long sigh filled the room.

"Nothing would make me happier."

A neutral, 'Come in.' was their only sign that they were allowed to enter the office. Once in, Gerry had a vice-like grip on Kurt's hand; her doe eyes were wide and _sparkly_. Jacob turned around and motioned for them to sit; he sat across from them and folded his hands on the gleaming desktop, his eyebrows raised with polite interest. "What can I do for you?"

"Well…" Gerry began, turning her childlike face towards Kurt; he nodded with a boost of self-confidence. "I'm, uh— I'm pregnant, Jacob." She placed both of her hands on the solid surface of the desk, and Kurt placed both of his slightly larger ones on top of hers; the contrast was almost comical, as there was very little.

"With _Kurt?_ But I thought—"

"I'm definitely gay." Kurt stated firmly, fighting hard to resist the eye roll that he felt coming on. "And would never stray."

"With Joe." She explained, her eyes never once meeting Jacob's.

"Well, that's all fine and cheery, Gerry, congratulations and all _that_." Jacob replied, beginning to busy himself with yet another stack of papers. "I can't say figure out why you'd specifically come and tell me, I'm sure the word would have spread; it's hard to keep secrets in showbiz…"

"Well," Kurt explained. "She was wondering if it would be harmful to the baby if she were to continue dancing and… well, performing, Jacob."

"Performing?" His eyes were puffer fish; they were expanding to their fullest size. "_Stop_ performing? Is that what you're suggesting?"

"Never mind." Gerry whispered, trying to push herself up so she could leave the office where a tidal wave of emotions was about to crest and destroy.

"We were simply _wondering_."

"You want me to find a new _Glinda_?"

"I told her that with two months left to perform, it wouldn't be too risky. When our surrogate was two weeks into her pregnancy, she was _rock climbing_, for heaven's sake—"

"Kurt, I don't even want to know." Jacob glowered, his fingers forming into a fist that began to clench and unclench. "Gerry, you'll be fine. Just don't _fall_ and break anything, especially not the baby." His deep eyes, which currently resembled black holes, met hers; he saw the vulnerability in them, and lowered his voice significantly, as if speaking to a small child. "We don't need any more injuries around here, Gerry. All I'm asking is for you to be careful and take it easy while you're not onstage. Do you think you could do that for me?"

She nodded quickly, resembling an alert, frightened rabbit.

"Good!" He clapped his hands together and smiled for a moment; soon, the two were exiting the office.

"See, that wasn't so bad." Kurt told her, pressing his hand to her sweaty forehead. "Jesus, Gerry, how nervous were you for _that_? It wasn't _that_—"

His shoes were soon being covered by colorless liquid that was spewing from Gerry's mouth. Once she was in an upright position, she opened her mouth as if to speak; she was stopped by Kurt.

"Not a word. Help me get back to my room and let's throw these damn things out. I'm going shopping before this afternoon's performance."

_~X~x~X~_

"We're in _Germany_, man. This is _authentic_ beer."

"Yeah, Kurt, it'll only be a little party, we'll be back in plenty of time to shower and prepare for tonight's show." Jared told him, winking with a quirky smile.

"Yeah," Kurt replied, smiling sarcastically. "That's what you said last time, and I woke up the next morning with a killer headache and rainbow paint smeared across my face. I've learned my lesson, thanks." He waved at the group of actors that were cruising the streets and was soon entering his hotel room; as soon as he did, a cell phone sounded.

An unknown number flashed across his screen; he answered it with a generic, "Hello?"

"Mr. Mesoo? This is Doctor Glampheric, from the Anchorage Psychology Center. You had an appointment today, I believe your father should have told you—"

"Um, excuse me, sir, but this isn't Mr. Mesoo."

A confused silence filled the line; the doctor regained his stride and resumed talking. "His father said this was the number. This is not Mr. Mesoo? Shane said it would be rather difficult to get Garret to commit to this…"

A tawny eyebrow touched the sky as Kurt scribbled down notes from this peculiar phone call. "No, I can guarantee you, Mr. Glampheric, that this is not Garret Mesoo. This is Kurt Hummel-Anderson, but I can gladly pass on the message. Mmhmm… yes. Alright. You, too. Bye."

Pressing the end button, Kurt seated himself on his bed, watching as the white sheets conformed to his weight and body.

_Shane… his number… a psychologist… why…? _Oh.

It could have been a mere coincidence that a psychologist from Alaska called Kurt's phone, requesting a Mr. Garret Mesoo who just happened to have a father named Shane.

Or, it could have been completely rigged.

Was Garret's dad trying to tell him something about Garret that Garret didn't want Kurt to know about?

Was this an accident that was done on purpose?

_~X~x~X~_

Kurt had just finished applying his nightly moisturizer when the door swung open; Garret had on a green fez-esque hat with a single feather on it; his cheeks were rosy and full of a _poisonous_ excitement. "I'm home!" He announced, nearly breaking his mattress and box springs as he collapsed onto it with an uncharacteristic amount of energy.

"Good evening, I'm guessing." Kurt called from the bathroom, entering the room in a pair of green set of silk pajamas.

"Good? More like _great!_" He exclaimed, sitting up; you could almost see the stars forming around his head from the quickness of the simple move. "Kristin is a complete _babe!_ And guess who got her digits?"

"She must be so lucky." Kurt replied in a toneless voice; he couldn't help but grin humorously at Garret's composure and excitement.

"Yeah, she was the barista."

"I see. Say, Garret? I received a phone call that pertained to you today." Kurt's voice dropped, and it entered his serious mode.

"Who from? My pain of a dad?"

"A psychologist."

It registered, and yet it didn't.

Garret knew what he was talking about.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He answered, trying his best to act nonchalant.

It was like trying to trick a genie.

"Yes, you do, Garret. What… What happened in your childhood that you don't want me to know about?"

"Nothing, man, I _don't_ know what you're talking about."

"Garr—"

"NOTHING!"

"You'll feel so much better if you just let it out!"

"No, I God damn won't!"

"Garret, ple—"

"I was abused, alright?" His voice was constrained, as if a boa constrictor was tightening around his vocal chords. "You happy? "

"No, I—"

"It wasn't him, if that's what you're thinking. It was one of his friends. One of his _slaves_. The two were out drinking, and came home, and—"He shook his head, his blissful mood nowhere to be found, and soon he was out the door.

Kurt found it very hard to sleep that evening.

_~X~x~X~_

The next couple of weeks were dreary, as if a rain cloud was floating overhead.

_~X~x~X~_

Garret's face was blissful and carefree on stage.

When he exited the building at precisely midnight the same evening, it was distorted into a mask of anger and pain.

Kurt pulled on his jacket and spotted him; he ran out the door and caught up to him. "Garret? Garret Mesoo!"

"Leave me alone."

"Listen; just—just hear me out, okay." He took a deep breath, and could emotionally feel a breeze of cold air hit him from the look Garret gave him. "I know you didn't intend on me to find out. But I did. And there's no changing that. This is obviously something that has affected you deeply, Garret—it would affect anyone. But you're not going to help yourself get over it if you don't first admit that it happened, and then begin to accept it." His grabbed both of his roommate's hands in his own, and looked up at the towering figure. "C'mon. Let's go to dinner. We can talk and make up there."

_~X~x~X~_

**Another update. Is it sick and masochistic to say that this one felt good to write?**

**Lately, since school has started and life has undoubtedly become more hectic, I've felt like the words haven't been connecting properly.**

**However, this one is an exception.**

**Another update. :D **

**Thanks so much for your reviews and lovely comments; I honestly appreciate it, and honestly they are the reason I keep writing this. Sincerely, Torrie**


	17. Life Before Madness

"One month exactly!" Are you ready to be home?"

"Uh, lemme think about it—yeah! I haven't seen my house in over a year." Joe told Kurt as he wheeled him through the buzzing airport security walkway. "What about you?"

Kurt's porcelain face remained expressionless; his eyebrows raised into his hairline. He was a blank canvas, formulating his multicolored thoughts; soon, he would unleash them and splatter the canvas without a hint of mercy. He would portray Jackson Polluck to a near tee.

"I am excited." Kurt finally decided, his pink cheeks nearly bleeding onto his stark skin.

"But?" Joe asked, craning his neck to glance at him with an all-knowing face. "You've become attached to it, haven't you?"

"What is life without ridiculous rehearsal schedules and late night burger cravings?" Kurt asked, laughing in a short, high squeak.

"And you don't remember what life was like before this trip?" He asked skeptically; the bass lowered his voice even lower, and Kurt nearly had to hunch over him to hear what he was saying.

"Well, of course, I _do_."

"Do you _want_ to go back?"

The two men came to a halt, finally arriving at the proper gate that would take them to Japan for their final stop on the trip that had truly been a once in a lifetime opportunity. _Had_ it been all worth it? Kurt hadn't a doubt in his mind. He had been exposed to several cultures, different types of food, and had seen famous landmarks. More importantly, he had overcome difficulties, had made amazing new friendships, and had pushed his boundaries and really worked to the best of his ability to accomplish tasks that could be considered impossible. Kurt had not only been away from his family for nearly a year, but he had done so with pride, and careful thinking; he was not going for himself, but for _them_. This was all for them. He had a wonderful husband—he had renewed is vows! Their son was just an example of the love and accomplishment that the two could create together.

It was wonderful.

If he stopped to think about it, Kurt Hummel-Anderson had had a pretty good year.

With a single nod, Kurt replied, "No. I don't _want_ to go back. I _have_ to."

_~X~x~X~_

"Kurt Hummel-Anderson? Kurt? Ah! This arrived for you a few days ago, and they gave it to me—Guess I forgot to give it to ya." Jacob grinned in a _near_ apologetic manner and tussled Kurt's hair, handing him a thick envelope. With a long eye roll and not a single sound, he managed to fix his hair to a _near-acceptable_ level and tore into the envelope.

His eyes swelled with confusion as they scrolled down the stationary, reading the curvy handwriting with one suspicious tawny eyebrow touching the sky.

_Kurt—_

_ You'd never believe who graced my doorstep this morning; he looked particularly exhausted, as did his father. AJ._

_ Apparently, there's a sewing badge that he needed help completing, and I suppose Blaine just didn't have the _time_ to sit down and help him for the few minutes it would take to complete. Well, you know him, he never really did have a work ethic. I hope you understand the sorrow that I—as I'm sure AJ—felt as we were completing the badge. We both know you're the better seamstress._

_ Anyways, before AJ left, he made it his mighty little mission to complete a button bracelet for you; nearly all the work the badge had was how to sew on buttons. It made me think back to when Blaine's father was alive, and Blaine made one for his father. He, being the dapper gentlemen he was, accepted it, though I have my doubts on if he actually wore it. AJ truly is a reflection of Blaine—though, he has an advantage that Blaine never did. He's like you and, because of that, I believe he has some truly great qualities._

_ Keep up the work, Kurt. You've made this old woman proud._

_ Sincerely, Lucille_

Attached with the letter was a heap of newspapers; articles from the same day were paper clipped together, and his name stood out against a bright yellow highlighter. They were clippings from nearly all print—including the internet—of him and his company. As he scanned over them, he felt a mixture of repulsion and love which, undoubtedly, fit his description of Lucille Anderson. She was _proud_ of him. Though she couldn't even work it in to be proud of her own _son? _Or did she have a stash of clippings of his successful books hiding under her mattress? Maybe accompanied by a heap of moldy cash? He wouldn't put it past her.

Kurt stuffed the newspaper clippings back inside the envelope and next examined the bracelet; it was made of white, sturdy cloth and had rainbow buttons attached to it messily.

It was beautiful.

With a giant smile, Kurt slipped the bracelet on; it fit snug, just enough to cause a pulse to escape his veins and beat against the fabric, reminding him of why he was on this trip.

_~X~x~X~_

Thursday was one of the few days where the company had only one show—the matinee. Matinees were both a glorious thing and a thing thought of by the Devil himself. They were lovely because the cast finished at a decent hour, and weren't up half the night performing. However, there were the downsides to a matinee. There was generally less of a crowd, and the company had to be prepared technically by 8:30AM, which meant an early morning and an extra early three hour rehearsal.

Once the performance was complete, the cast and crew simultaneously changed out of makeup; Elpheba was made _white_ again; Glinda was magicked into Gerry; the munchkins' ears were no longer pointy. This was one of the most magical scenes of _Wicked_, and yet there was hardly an audience to appreciate it.

"Garret? Garret Mesoo?" A Japanese lady stood by the exit doors, hugging her program to her chest with an exited grin smeared across her pale face. She looked rather lost, and kept scanning the area around her; she was definitely out of place among the actors.

"Garret!" Someone yelled, motioning for the woman to wait for a few seconds, possibly even minutes—it would definitely depend on what mood Mr. Mesoo was indeed in.

"What the hell—Oh. Hi, there, uh, can I do anything for you?" Garret approached the woman; she seemed to feel that it was now or never, and nearly jumped on him with a huge hug, exclaiming to him that she was his biggest fan.

"My first time to America I came to Anchorage and saw you perform! That's when I saw the truly genuine person in you, Garret Mesoo—you're an inspiration!"

Kurt nearly spit out his lemon water that he had been gargling; his face transformed into a twister board, and his features were unsure of where to go.

"Well, I believe everyone can be good deep down, lady. It all depends on how you look at a person. Just because someone seems like they're going to be a certain way, it doesn't automatically guarantee that they'll be what they look like. Like…" His eyes scanned around the room, searching for the perfect example. He pointed directly at Kurt and continued talking. "See him? He may seem like a complete priss, and at times might even be that way. But—he's one of my best friends and has helped me through some serious times. He's been a lifesaver , literally. He's not what he seems, and neither am I."

The woman merely smiled, waving at the actor who had played Fierro. "Well, how about you give me some time to get to figure you out for myself?"

Garret grinned, grabbing his coat, and soon the two were off to explore the nature of Japan—and each other.

_~X~x~X~_

"Yeah, AJ and I have been counting down the days since school got out. He made a little calendar that we hung on the refrigerator, and every morning he asks if he can put an x through the day."

"That's adorable." Kurt gushed, grinning at the laptop and his husband's face that was propped up on his bed; it was currently three in the morning Kurt's time, meaning it was six PM in America. He was finding it hard to piece together words at this late—or was it _early_?—hour. However, Kurt would give anything to talk to Blaine and/ or AJ, even if that meant precious sleep. "Oh, Blaine—did he win his soccer game today?"

"Well, he scored a few goals, but the team didn't win, no. He was pretty disappointed. But, Daddy B came to the rescue, and we managed to get ice cream afterwards."

"Without _me_?" Kurt asked, a hand flying to his forehead in mock distress.

"Hey, I don't want to hear it, you're in Japan. I'm sure they have yummy ice cream."

"Yeah, well, it's quite exceptional, but there's something missing in it."

"What's that?" Blaine asked, throwing a hand into his obnoxious curls.

"You."

"Well, that's very sweet of you, darling. We're down to one week. Or, as AJ has told anyone who would listen, six days. He crossed out day seven when he woke up, and has been convinced that it's been six days since this morning." A light chuckle escaped him, and soon it intensified as he stared through the webcam at Kurt. "Um—Kurt?"

"Hmm?"

"Babe?"

"Huh, no, just five more minutes…"

"I should be offended, you just fell asleep on me. However, I'm going to take it that you're exhausted and excuse you this time. Good night, darling, and really, go to bed."

_~X~x~X~_

The days that followed were terribly slow and excitingly fast—all at the same time. The shows continued to be great, as did the hospitality of the Japanese people. Kurt found himself squished together with his castmates at a booth, watching as a skilled chef flung grilled shrimp and other seafood onto their plates through a ring of fire.

"Kurt, you ordered it, you _have_ to try it."

"Listen, I ordered it _against my will_, and—"

"No buts, c'mon mister! It's just _shirako_."

"Just shirako!" Kurt cried; his lips formed an upside down smile as he stared down at the gooey white dish, simply staring.

"C'mon, kid, it's just a _fish's sack._ You're in _Japan_ for Christ's sake!" Garret _encouraged_, grinning wickedly as he wrapped his arm tight around Mizuki, the woman who had taken such bold movements to meet her favorite actor.

"Yes, try it! It good!" She giggled, placing a kiss on Garret's cheek.

Kurt grabbed a little bit of the food with his chopsticks and examined it with a skeptical glance. Was he _really _doing this? With a brave nod, he lifted the meat up to his mouth. Pretty soon, half of the bowl was gone.

_~X~x~X~_

"Gerry, have you seen my new Burberry jacket? I just bought it the other day!" Kurt had nearly scoured his room, making sure that each and every item he had brought with him—and the many that he had bought on his trip—ended up in his suitcase.

She raced down the hallway towards his room and grinned apologetically. "Um, yeah, Kurt, actually I have, you see—I borrowed it the other day."

"You—you _borrowed_—"

"Yeah, it just went so well with my outfit, and—"

"_You borrowed?"_

"Yeah, and Joe said it looked simply _fabulous_—"

"You've mastered the use of the word 'fabulous', my dear friend." Kurt sighed, taking the jacket and folding it affectionately, placing it on top of his mountain of clothes and zipping his suitcase with a terrible struggle. "If I didn't love you so much, I might be very upset."

"Don't pretend like you aren't." Gerry told him, sitting on his suitcase as if to help him zip it; this did hardly any good, as she weighed probably less than the suitcase with the amount of clothes Kurt had stuffed in it. "Anyways, you must be so excited."

"For what?" Kurt asked distractedly, running around the room and checking under Garret's bed to make sure he hadn't missed anything; he pulled out a pair of boxers and threw them disgustedly on Garret's messy bed; he squeezed some hand sanitizer on his hands and appraised them skeptically.

"For _what_?" Gerry repeated, grabbing Kurt's hand and pulling him on his bed. "You're going to see them today. You know, nothing big, just your _family_."

"I—OH MY GOD!" Kurt squealed, hugging his best friend in a rib-crushing hug. "I'M GOING TO SEE THEM!"

"That's more like it." Gerry grinned. "Now, get up, we need to check in between seats and possibly underneath the carpet if we're going to get you out of this room with the satisfaction of getting everything you packed. Only one more show, Mr. Hummel-Anderson. Let's make it our best. If not for ourselves, let's do it for Blaine and AJ."

"For Blaine and AJ." Kurt repeated, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest at the mention of their glorious, _beautiful_ names.

_~X~x~X~_

The final bars sounded, and the audience erupted into applause.

To Kurt, he could only hear two people clapping, and those two people were his husband and child. Although he couldn't see them in the massive audience, he could _feel_ them, as if he was magnetically attracted to them, as if he was being pulled to them by an invisible tether.

_~X~x~X~_

All around him, cast and crew were being greeted and reunited with family that they had not seen in a year. Squeals of delight and excitement were the constant background noise. Kurt escaped the dressing room as quickly as he could, his child-like face bright with glee at the thought of seeing Blaine and AJ again.

He waited patiently, staking the evening out with Gerry.

At quarter till eleven, he began to worry, his young face creasing with indented lines.

"They'll be here." Gerry told him, placing a sturdy hand on his shaking shoulder; his foot jiggled and tapped with nerves.

At eleven thirty, Kurt was having foolish second thoughts, the type that only occur from desperation.

Another half hour passed.

"Baby, are you sure they're here?"

Kurt wasn't.

_~X~x~X~_

**LAST FULL CHAPTER! :D Sincerely, Victoria.**


	18. The Finale

"So, he _is_ real, Kurt!"

Of course he was real. Oh, was he _real_ to Kurt.

"Yes, you senseless Neanderthal, he is real. Would I like to you?" Before Kurt could give his colleagues _too_ much time to think, he placed his hand on the small of his husband's back. "Blaine, these are my colleagues that I'm—_oh so fortunate_—to work with." A mischievous grin filled his porcelain face as he watched his friends and their tiny outbursts of mock protest. "Everyone, this is the one, and _only_, Blaine Hummel-Anderson."

"Daddy K, you're forgetting someone!"

Kurt only caught a glimpse of the small figure dashing through the doorway before he felt the impact.

"AJ!" Kurt squealed, bending down at grabbing his son into a massive, _squishy_ hug. He leaned back to stare at his beautiful, precious boy, the one who had been the center of attention of many of his dreams, the one who had ruined many of his designer sweaters, the one who looked a lot like Blaine—the one who he was raising with Blaine.

"Let me guess, Kurt." Garret grinned, staring at the eight year old with the out of control hair, fair skin, and chocolate freckles. "This is that obnoxious little twerp you haven't been able to keep your yap shut about?"

"Excuse _me,_ I am _not_ a twerp." AJ sassed, sounding exactly like the dad he had not seen in an entire year.

The room erupted into laughter; Blaine's was like a song that Kurt knew every lyric to, despite the fact that he had not heard the tune for ages.

This fact was only heighted in intensity when Blaine slipped his hand into Kurt's.

"Daddy, are you going to do this next year?"

Kurt plastered a watery, confident smile on his face. "Darling, I've had my fanace on that stage and it was glorious. But now I've found something even better than that. Do you know what that is?" AJ shook his head and leaned his forehead against his Daddy K's. "It's my family."

Kurt set AJ down, watching proudly as he began to converse with his cast mates. Glancing up, Kurt found himself lost in husband's eyes.

He never wanted to escape again.

_~X~x~X~_

**Well, dear readers, that is the end. :) Make it what you will—I hope I accomplished all of your suggestions and loves and gorgeous ideas. I had a really fun time writing this story; this was my first attempt at Klaine fanfiction, and have really enjoyed what the crazy adventure has given me as both a person and a writer. Your FF's, subscriptions, and comments really inspired me at times where I considered not finishing the story. It was because of you that the story turned out so. Thank you for everything. Sincerely, Victoria.**


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